Kid Strawberry slaps leather on the Hollow Men
by crihavoc
Summary: Bleach in the Wild West! Alternative story. In the Arizona Territories in 1889 Chigo Kurasake, the Strawberry Kid, and his Apache Princess Ruh kya battle Captain Hazen and his Hollow Men Gang in a bloody fight for the world's survival
1. Chapter 1

**Kid Strawberry slaps leather on The Hollow Men Gang, Part 1**

Disclaimer:

This story is a "Bleach Alternative" and places familiar characters into unfamiliar environments and situations. I have taken great liberty with the creations of Tite Kubo and expect to pay dearly for my presumptions in the next life. Please light a candle or Auroshikha incense - stick for my poor soul.

Any errors, misspellings or mistakes in the use of the Spanish or Southern Athabaskan words or phrases are entirely my fault. If the story sucks, well, hey... thanks for your time.

Playlist:

The following songs are recommended listening with this story -

Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds – Red Right Hand

lostprophets – Lucky You

Cowboy Junkies – Common Disaster

Jimmy Eat World - Pain

* * *

**Editor's Note: **The following excerpts were uncovered from _The Saguaro Clarion_ archive vault during explorations related to the upcoming Bicentennial Celebration of our town, Saguaro, Arizona. The interview, sourcing from the original town newspaper _Dirtnap's Digger_, offers a first person account of the legendary battle between Kid Strawberry, Chigo Kurasake, (famously known as "Dithlhithl bigan shiwoo" or "Black Toothed Hands" in the Apache-Athabaskan language) and the law–breaking gang known as The Hollow Men, under the fearful command of "Captain" Suki Hazen. This documented and violent clash occurred in August of 1889 on the streets of Dirtnap, Arizona, which would in 1906 change in name to Saguaro township. 

The eyewitness to the battle, "Gabby" Jijo, is obviously a man of his time: many colorful and often non–politically correct phrases appear in his narrative. We at _The Clarion_ stand by the publication of this archival story as is and unedited from when it appeared in 1890, viewing it as a historical document and piece of living history that should stand on its own merits. It is a remarkable relation of the events of 1889, events that occurred on the hardpan beneath our very feet.

-------------------------------------------------------------------

From _Digger_, reporter B.LeChance

This article, being a first person account related to This Reporter by one "Gabby" Louis Jijo ("Gabby" being a descriptive term employed almost exclusively by Dirtnap residents in reference to Mr. Jijo) of the events of August 19, 1889, Kid Strawberry versus The Hollow Men Gang, is presented for the edification of our Gentle Readers in this special edition of the _Dirtnap's Digger_.

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I told you I'd be spinnin' you that story…don't get antsy there, pard. Just… that's right, 'nother one o' them FINE McGregor pours!

_gulp_

Whhhooooo–EEEE! Now, that's some fine likker, and I ain't talkin' piss from a horse, uh–UH, pard!

Where was I? Oh, yeah… Kid Strawberry.

Well, I could start in about how ol' Kid got hisself raised up here in Dirtnap, Ah-rizoni. Him, his Pa an' his two little sisters, cute as buttons, they was. Pa Kurasaki, well he was the Doc around these parts, only Doc 'tween here'n Tombstone to the south. Hell, he ain't only a people doc, pard, I've seen him birth calves, even draw teeth. He were a mighty talented man, the Doc. Didn't know half his skill 'till later…

So, anywho… what, you don't care 'bout this part? You want to hear about the Kid and how he went up against all them Hollow Men? Hold them horses, pard, hold on, there… No, no, don't get up! I'm just a little parched is all, my mind's a'wandering… maybe a little taste of that McGregor might bring me back… that's right, perfecto, sehnor!

_gulp, gulp... BELCH_

Oh, hell, sorry 'bout that… some peppers in the chili this morning, is all. So, long story short, ol' Kid got born here'bouts in Dirtnap and was helpin' his Pa with his work when he met his special someone. No one rightly knows how it happened, one day he was just a rawboned towny with that carrot–top, only talent getting' into trouble and fightin' his way out of it… what, I never TOLD you that? Well, hell, that's why they call him STRAW-berry, his hair!

One day, he goes a'ridin' on the outskirts of town, out by the mesas, he'd do that sometimes… that boy, he got a passel of longin' for the road in him… it had to be June, 'cause as I remember the saugaro cactuses were a ' bloomin'. The Kid didn't come back for three days, pard, an' when he did, his Princess was a'ridin' behind him. That's right, never even looked back at any of the little girls o' the town that were' a makin' cow–eyes at him, but he comes back with a galldurned Black Mountain Tinneh girl, meanin' Apache to you n'me.

Princess Ruh-kya.

All sinew and catgut, blazin' eyes and buckskin, short hair for a Black Mountain tribe… ridin' behind him on his horse, two eagle feathers on her headband just like a brave.

Now, I don't speak the lingo, if 'n you follow, but Ruh-kya must mean 'don't take NO shit' in Apache, 'cause that tiny thing done busted up the asses of e'vy towny that looked at her sideways, crossways or downways. Damndest girl y'ever did see… an pard, could she throw a knife! HELLfire!

Yeah, yeah, I'm'a gettin' to that! Look, fine, you want to tell the story? 'Cause, I'll just go home, tu comprende, hombre? No? Yes, another'd go down right smart, there…

I hear you, bud, that's fine. So anywho, the Kid and his Princess done left town and started travelin' all over the territories. Don't know where he learned to throw leather but he done learned better'n anybody we heard tell of 'cross the Territories. The Fargo drovers and the cattlemen, from the visitin' judge and the marshall and from whatever broadsheet that'd float into town on the shimmerin' air of the griddle we call home… they all told stories about our Kid…

Kid Strawberry and his two black Colt Peacemakers, Zam and Getchyou. There's them that say that them pistols are haunted, that a bearded Conquistador–man with shaded eyes appears sometimes in the gunsmoke, and that his iron voice can be heard in every shot. Yeah, funny, ain't it. What I can tell you is, ghost or not, them hoglegs could throw a storm o'lead, soundin' like double–thunderclaps in front of the Kid's icy an' unblinkin' eyes.

Oh, more McGregor? Why, don't mind if'n I do, pard. Thankee.

_guuuuulp_

A long, tall shadow fell over the Hollow Men, the biggest gang in the territories… wherever they met, the Kid ripped them a new poophole! An', pard, he done for a whole passel of 'em. Like, up near Tucson– town, he got bushwacked at the livery. Twenty o' them 'gainst just the Kid and the Princess… and none of the Hollows survived. One stable– hand watched the whole thing from beneath a hay–pile, he said that the Kid was just a blur, that he seemed to be in two places at once and all the time his big Colts were 'a singin' and flamin'so that the shadows of the dyin' men seemed to be jitterin' on the knotholed walls of the livery, like they was at the harvest dance. Blood e'vywhere… Ruh–kya done told fer four o' em. That boy saw her, then he didn't but heard a splash and then another as if someone'd knocked over a pail o' milk after they done RELIEVED the cow, 'ceptin' it weren't no milk… not unless Apache milk's red. Then, two more… she done ripped open the throats o' four men, even as her man was sendin' the rest to the ferryman.

What… ferryman. Yeah, I know who the damn ferryman is. Jesus Christ in an outhouse, what, you think I'm ig'norant? I don't read too well, but ev'body knows the ferryman's in the Bible! Hell, Jesus trucked with fishermen and made some his pards, there had to be a FERRY–man. Damn, why am I talkin' to you, anyway…?

Tucson–town? Well, livery weren't the same after. Building half fell down from all the holes shot into it and seemed like it got a new coat o' red paint. They ripped it up and used the wood for markers. Y'know how they marked the Hollow Men? Since they give up their names, you just plant a slab of wood and then scoop out a hole. Ev'body knows, 'Hollow buried here.'

Allright. So, now let's talk about Dirtnap. All you gots to do is stand up an'look out that dusty window and you can see her proud street and alleys, her busy shops, the apothecary and Doc's office and Urahara's Dry Goods Emporium… yeah, that ringin' bell is the schoolhouse at the other end of town, Miss Orihime must be callin' the kids back from their lunch. Now, that woman is a CATCH, smart and purty and nice as all–get–out. And, she's got that huge…McGregor? Oh, yeah, thanks, pard.

So, after years o' ridin' and rilin', the Kid came back to Dirtnap. Seemed like he was a'goin' ta take his ease, mayhap raise some horses or try a hand at cattle… he and his Pa and evy'one raised a house near town where he and his Princess could live. Ruh-kya's kin came down from the Black Mountain to bless their home. Big Chief Sado, strongest man, Apache or white, that I never seen, he done brought an entire peace–party into town, includin' his squaw Tatsuki and the weird medicine man for the tribe, Kinta–see Four-Eye. For a while there, things were mighty fine.

Here's a toast, then, let's raise a glass of this bea–UTIFUL likker to them good days, them fine times o' dancin' and talkin' and bein' with friends. Them wonderful, graceful prayer–rites of Ruh–kya's tribe and their stories of the soul and spirit and courage… and the Kid's chance to take them death–dealin' shootin' irons and fold them away and start livin' by Gospel chapter and verse… well, here's to that!

_gulp, gulp, gulp_

Then, THEY came.

_spit _

The Hollow Men. Led by their big Boss, Captain Hazen and his ramrodders, Bandido Ichimaru and Lousy Tousen, they came down like soulless locusts on a plague to end all plagues. Hundreds of the bastards, all lookin' to even the score.

I won't tell you 'bout the hurtin' they put on poor little Dirtnap, here. The sherrif, ol' Don Kay, he done skedaddled out to New Mexico to save his thin – shanked hide. No one to fight the Hollows, who came a' lookin' for the Kid. So they burned and wrecked and looted and hurt the town… and the people…

And then, the Kid, he'd had enough…

He done strapped on them Peacemakers and… ah–Hem!

Aahrm. Erm. Tell you what, there, pard… this part o' the story gets kind o' long. Why'nt you buy a bottle o' that fine McGregor to help, ah, lubi–kate the tellin'?

**End**, Part I


	2. Chapter 2

**Kid Strawberry slaps leather on The Hollow Men Gang, Part 2**

Disclaimer:

This story is a "Bleach Alternative" and places familiar characters into unfamiliar environments and situations. I have taken great liberty with the creations of Tite Kubo and expect to pay dearly for my presumptions in the next life. I have also utilized certain Apache / Navajo myths in this story to achieve my ends… I believe I have done them no injury.

Any errors, misspellings or mistakes in the use of the Spanish or Southern Athabaskan words or phrases are entirely my fault. If the story sucks, well, hey... thanks for your time.

* * *

**Editor's Note: **The eyewitness account of "Gabby" Jijo continues. This narrative remains a remarkable relation of the events of 1889, the battle between Kid Strawberry and The Hollow Men Gang.

--------------------------------------------------------

Awright, down t' th' dirty… I ken why y' keep on sighin' like that, pard… t' th' Kid we go.

Well, almost. First… you need t' jus' accept what I'm'a goin' t' tell you, 'cause it'll sound like I'm feedin' you a cowflop. I ain't, this shit is how th' day went down… Pard, I won't blame you. I was th're a'watchin… an' I sometimes think i'twas a dream.

I woke up that day to th' sound o' axes. No sound like it, th' chop – thud of a bitin' axe.

Weren't used to th' screamin' part, though, that was new.

I looked out from behind th' shade on th' door just in time to see ol' Pete Whitakker lose his second leg. Pete was a right bastard, but…

But…

_gulp_

Ahem.

I had been a'workin' as a scut fer Goldilocks Urahara for a few days previous, his normal outfit havin' set out to th' Tucson rail station for a new deliv'ry. I took care o' th' trash an' swept an' polished 'round th' Emporium while he did his sellin' thing… 'twas a good deal, he paid in cash and let me sleep on th' floor, even lent me an' ol' horse blanket.

Goldy done come down from his bed while I was watchin' poor Pete get done in. I didn't know him, at first… th' floppy hat, th' cane were missin' and he done put on his WAR face. He was wearin' patched butternut n' cavalry boots, his white linen shirt an' a gold neck – cloth. There was a Henry repeater over one shoulder, a gold – tasseled hanger on his hip, and I'll be damned if he didn't have a 9 – shot .44 caliber LeMat held easy in his big right hand.

I called him a goddamned Johny Reb in my surprise, but he took no offense… he grinned small, nodded an' clicked his heels, right polite, then motioned w' his head for that I foller' him out back.

Ol' Pete's screams were dyin' out, but others were a'startin' all over Dirtnap, real bedlam and damnation in th' streets, an' I done skedaddled on out'a th' Emporium right on Goldy's heels. Th' Crowbait special… that means hearse, there, pard… was a'settin' out back w' th' two black geldin's a stamping at th' ground, all hitched. Three Hollow Men were layed out 'round th' hansom, done in w' what looked like a single sword – cut each. Goldy Urahara just shrugged n' raised his eyebrows when I looked at 'im.

Ain't never been a real count o' th' number o' Hollow Men showed up here at Dirtnap. Filled th' street, hell, RINGED around th' TOWN… all silent and mirada furiosa… loco, like you prob'ly heard was their nature… duds covered with th' white dust from their canyon - side escondrijo, faces all stripey with black clay.

You IS from Ah-rizoni, pard? Escondrijo… hideout, you follow? They done carved out caves in th' side of Buzzard canyon…

Anywho, day 'a'fore were like any oth'r, night th' same… but when th' sol rojo clawed up over th' mesas, this white plague came up outa th' ground itself. An' ridin' right down th' center o' town on a buckboard is Captain Hazen, w' 'ol Bandido and Lousy t'eith'r side, showin' his teeth, hair floppin' over his spectacles.

_gulp, gulp_

Rememberin' that hellacious day makes me think o' minin'…

Yep, I done some minin' so's you can be sure, I know what I'm sayin'. That fire in a miner's eye, where gold is th' thing that th'y love best and th'y're willin' to rip up th' stony ground with th'ir bare hands to get it… that same gleam was all around Dirtnap on that day in August.

It was like someone opened a mine in our town that day, but didn't go diggin' for no gold nuggets. Nope, it was an Olt Testament POUND- of - FLESH mine, an' ev'body started goin' for broke on that same day.

Damnation, pard, it were a bloody moth'r–lode.

_gulp_

I looked at them hacked up Hollow Men, swallered bile and done hopped over th' blood n' guts into th' seat, took up them reins and clucked to th' horses. Goldy hauled hisself up next to me, Henry on his lap n' his eyes busy as poor Ruth Ann when th' cattle drive come in… ah, poor Ruthy met a ver' bad end that day as well, I won't speak of it…

Goldy reached behind him and pulled out a fancy- ass Reb cavalry top, th' type with one turned up side, a gold band and feather, and pushed it down over his yellow locks… told me to get them horses movin' to Kid Strawberry's place. I did that thing, I made them horses run like hell.

_gulp…_ _BELCH_

Seems we done gone through one en- TIRE bottle of McGregor, there, pard. This yarn ain't getting' any shorter, I think you might need to bite th' bullet on 'nother…

So…

While we were bouncin' along, I asked ol' Goldy what th' mornin' had brought. He was right quiet, then said that he couldn't rightly tell, that Th' Kid would know… I let it rest, just looked over m' shoulder as more smoke started risin' from th' town at m' back.

They was all loaded for bear at Th' Kid's hacienda. As we jostled around th' final risin' turn there were folks runnin' eve'y which way and all kinds of shootin' irons coverin' us. Th' Doc was out front as we came to th' door, a Springfield carbine held in one hand, restin' at his hip an' pointin' up at th' sun. Pa Kurosake looked like he knew which end was which, way he stood, although I was sour on th' carbine since I'd heard how it helped Custer and th' 7th shit- all in the Dakotas. By this time I was goddamned numb to surprises, so th' blue shako tilted back on th' Doc's head didn't much register. Nor the cap'in's bars on his blue jacket, nor the gold cloth tied 'round his arm. He had a cutter, too, th' hilt stickin' up over his shoulder.

Doc smiled through his beard at Goldy, said 'hello, brother' to 'im. I asked if they was related, somethin' I hadn't known, but th' two shared a look and Goldy finally answered 'in a way.' I felt like they was playin' some kind o' joke on m' then, didn't know th' truth of th' matter, so I got my old ass out o' th' hansom and tried to turn myself into a rock.

Th' Kid stuck his orange head through th' door, his eyes takin' in everythin' in an instant. He looked at me for a beat, shook his head and then scowled an' gave a nod… he tole ever'body to come 'round back…

Ah, there's that McGregor. Pour me a taste, there, senhor…

_gulp_

Now, here's where things take a turn, there, pard. Y' think you know where I'm goin' but it ain't where I'm goin'. You ken?

I didn't think so… just stay with me, pard, you'll get your story.

We ambled 'round back, into a Tinneh medicine circle. Those men that Chief Sado had brung were circled up, makin' a big space 'round a tub of water. Ol' Kinta – see was chantin' and a'dancin' all along th' inside o' th' circle, hands movin' and sweepin' a big bow in shapes in t'air. He had a cross painted on his chest but it weren't no Jesus – sign, and circles were traced 'round his eyes. Th' Kid was squatted on his haunches next to th' tub, and his Princess was stirring th' water up with two hands. At his knee was what looked like a deer – skin covered stick o' wood, and a flat piece of what looked like slate rock.

Goldy put a hand on m' shoulder n' jerked his chin at th' circle. Th' braves made room for me and I stayed put as Doc and Goldy done walked in and up to th' tub, standin' behind Th' Kid. Big Chief Sado and his squaw moved into th' circle next to me. Th' medicine man seemed to get his chantin' done moved up a notch and he finished big, then stopped in front of th' tub. All was quiet 'ceptin' for distant screams o' people an' animals. I do 'member an eagle callin', high in the blue sky.

Ruh – Kya told Chigo 'it's time,' and he closed his eyes and turned his face to th' sun. He took th' skin – wrapped stick in his left hand and th' slate in his right. He rose up to his height an' then, eyes still shut, he tossed th' stick into th' tub. It floated briefly, then sank. Kinta – See yelped and sang s'more for a brief while and all th' Tinneh in th' circle shouted up a response. In th' quiet that followed th' Kid done made 'nother blind toss with th' rock. It hit th' water in th' tub w'out a splash, sank… and then rose up to float on th' surface. Another yell from th' Apache throats, but th' folks in th' circle hung their heads. Doc and Goldy placed hands on each o' Th' Kid's shoulders.

Th' kid opened his eyes and turned to th' Princess. "Get me them Colts, m'Lady." He said, I 'member it clearly. I also 'member this…

I turned to th' chief, th' days events so loco that my tongue was loosed w' such a man as it had ne'er been a'fore. I asked him and his Tyat- sooki what had happened.

"He has divined the will of Yusen, the Giver – of – Life." I's afraid I said somthin' ugly an' luckily he weren't offended. I asked what th' De – VIN – ation meant…

Chief turned and looked at th' sun. "The Pahana, the Lost White Brother, has come… this Hazen. He and his tsun – on – da – ti, his white devil – men, have come to destroy the spirit power of the Doko'osliid, the Sacred Mountain of the West, one of the four columns that holds up Heaven." My face must've said chapter n' verse, as Sado looked down n' shook his head. W'out 'nother word, he walked away.

I was feelin' mighty idjity when Tyat- sooki started talkin'. "We live in Tuwaquchi, the Fourth World…" She said slowly, bein' very patient w' me. I wanted to ask if she meant th' Territories, but luckily I didn't. "If the Pahana destroys a column of heaven, without Yusen and his Raven providing the Great Hollow Reed to transport us to the Fifth World, the People will die." She raised her pretty eyebrows and frowned. "ALL people…"

Now, I know you're wonderin' how I 'member these words so damn clear… I gotta tell you, I plumb don't know. Just do.

_gulp_

"What Raven did was put forth the final question. Is this the Battle, is this the Death Time… and the stone rose on the water." She said, her voice liftin'. "We must fight. If we lose, then the Fifth World will belong to the Pahana and our spirits will be forfeit."

I asked her what she meant by 'Raven,' as I'd seen no birds 'round or in th' circle. She gave me a strange look.

"He is…" she said, pointin' at Th' Kid. "He is the embodiment of Ka – Ga, Raven… it is to Raven that Yusen gave power, clever Raven who tests all creatures and gods, mighty Raven who defends the People with his sharp eyes and his black wings." Th' Kid didn't hear, he was standin' casual next to his Princess, a Peacemaker Colt in his hand, it singin' it's click-clack metal song in th' burnin' mornin' air as he tested th' action and spun th' chamber. He didn't look like no Raven…

He looked like a cold–eyed killer.

_gulp_

**End**, Part II


	3. Chapter 3

Kid Strawberry slaps leather on The Hollow Men Gang, Part 3 

Disclaimer:

This story is a "Bleach Alternative" and places familiar characters into unfamiliar environments and situations. I have taken great liberty with the creations of Tite Kubo and expect to pay dearly for my presumptions in the next life. I have also utilized certain Apache / Navajo myths in this story to achieve my ends… I believe I have done them no injury.

Any errors, misspellings or mistakes in the use of the Spanish or Southern Athabaskan words or phrases are entirely my fault. If the story sucks, well, hey... thanks for your time.

* * *

**Editor's Note: **The eyewitness account of "Gabby" Jijo continues. This narrative remains a remarkable relation of the events of 1889, the battle between Kid Strawberry and The Hollow Men Gang.

-----------------------------------------------------

He was in a bad way.

Th' Hollow Man was a crawlin' on his belly at me, one arm with too many bends in it curvin' through th' dust, his body broken on one side an' th' yeller bones o' his ribs pushin' out, all slick- like in th' hot sun. After what Chief Sado done t' him an' his compadres, it were somthin' of a miracle he was a'movin' a'tall.

Th' pile o' dead men he done come from was yonder down th' street. He was th' only one that came out… an' a snaky line o' wet chunky stuff marked his trail toward me. He was a reachin' out his good arm, hand dirty like a claw w' long crusty nails. Sweat an' other juice'd cut lines through th' white mud coverin' him but his eyes… they was fierce black in his face.

Just watchin' this pitiful bastard eat dirt t' git me, I plumb couldn't ken it… I had t' ask. Why, I says t' him, why do this? I asked, even as I pressed th' barrel o' my lent Sharps 4-barrel into his pale forehead, hard 'nough t' push his head back. Strings o' frothy pink ran down his chin an' his teeth was red in his mouth as he tried t' grab at me.

"So empty…" He mumbled, t' my surprise, "Empty…"

He started t' growl an' caught at m' ankle an' I thumbed th' hammer, pulled th' trigger an' saw th' .32 caliber ball lift th' back o' his head off an' spin it down th' street. That were th' only shot I fired that day…

_gulp, gulp_

What? You done asked me 'bout th' hollow men, right? Here I is, givin' you some action right up front, m' own life-and-death fight with one of them clay covered sumbitches an' now you is getting' all lily- livered on me?

Fine, pard, let me two- step back a bit t' b'fore I dropped th' hammer.

So, th' Chief an' his squaw Tyat- sooki were facin' 'bout twenty o' them Hollows down by th' south side o' town. They was back-t'-back when ol' Sado used his buff'lo arm. He throwed some kind o' punch, t'was to fast for me t' see, an' then there was only like a dust cloud as ten o' them white bastards flew backwards an' whacked hard off hitchin' posts an' th' wooden walls o' buildings. They bounced 'round some in mid – air an' all fell in a heap…

That's right… buffalo arm. No, it ain't some kind a' "cowboy lingo," y' dumb-ass.

_gulp_

Sado bit his wrist t' draw blood, ripped a medicine pouch from his neck an' wound it 'round his wrist, it got bloody and his whole right arm… changed. Became a part of a buffalo, THE buffalo, I-gûn-da… th' Apache god.

His wing done haired up an' bulged out an' horns came from his knuckles an' it were like th' whole limb got caught up in a wierdly shimmer, like th' air over a bakin' desert rock; gave him great power in battle.

Tyat-sooki had been… We all had been… oh, hell...

_gulp, gulp, gulp_

When we came down from The Kid's place, we were 'bout twenty. Chief, me, Tyat-sooki an' a war party o' braves. We hit a ring o' outlyers despite our scoutin' sneaky ways. The Hollow Men done folded in 'round us, 'twas like steppin' in a rattlesnake nest w'out th' kindly warnin' from th' snake. Twenty went in, ten came out, runnin' like hell.

They took us apart. Yeah, literal-like. Even th' horses. 'Twas minutes. We were walkin' our borrow'd horses 'round rocks at th' side o' th' dry river when a line of white bodies came up out th' ground an' over th' rocks. Bedlam with th' horses rearin' an' dust kicked up over ever'body an' th' yelps an' screams an' other… sounds. No time for guns, so fast was their rush on us.

Chief Sado pick'd his squaw up an' grabbed whatever braves were near t'hand. We made a wedge w' the Chief at th' tip, all us an what'er horseflesh we could hold on t' so as t' hit those bastards with all th' chargin' weight we could. An' we just ran at th' line, past th' little fights going on around us, ten brave Tinneh men thrustin' with spears an' knives, flailin' with rifle stocks as th' Hollows came pilin' on, warriors keenin' their death-songs as they held th' seconds we needed t' battle free.

An' these men, they came with us… so desperate was th' fight, so horrible th' wounds on these braves that we ran through puddles o' their blood, we ran through a red mist pumped by their unflinchin' hearts so that we looked demons ourselves as we hit that line. Them Hollow Men, they wasn't ready for what they got an' we ran over an' through 'em, their sliced an' trampled bodies tumblin' at our backs as we angled towards th' town.

An', we kept runnin'. We none of us wanted t' be near enough t' hear what them bastards were doin' t' th' dead.

_gulp, gulp… BELCH_

Listen, pard, don't give me no sour face. 'Tis my tale, I'll tell it like I want. You want more o' The Kid, well, y'all need t' hear this part as well. Madre de Dios, you'd think y' was like ten years old. Right now, I want t' 'member beautiful, brave, poor dead Tyat – sooki, belov'd wife o' Chief Sado, woman of th' Tinneh, th' People. Th' woman they called Nîn-ko-jîn, Wildcat.

Sado called upon th' power o' his god an' was filled up, his right arm becomin' a thing o' power…an' he done smited him some heathen mud – covered bandidos an' whupped them into th' landscape. But, even as he came t' rest from that blow, a dozen more Hollow Men poured from houses an' alleys nearby an' sprinted towards his back, knives an' axes an' rocks ready t' fall.

Betwixt his body an' their attack, Tyat – sooki was there. Sudden – like, taut an' hissing with claws of bone n' iron in her hands… one thin slip of a squaw 'gainst a bum's rush o' thugs. An, they didn't stand a chance.

Even as Sado began t' turn, Tyat- sooki leapt towards th' Hollow Men. Her left arm blurred an' th' closest bastard couldn't yell no more 'cause his lower jaw come off, teeth seedin' th' air like yeller pearls. In th' same motion her right knee found a home in th' neck of the next fella, a truly huge man. For just a second it seemed like she was lookin' for t' climb that bull, as her knee just dug deep into his big neck… but a push with her leg an' she floated away like she weighed nothin' an' landed on her feet. His eyes rolled up an' he made a hackin' sound an' a red gush flew past his stuck – out tongue an' all over th' shoulders n' faces of his crew. They stopped at th' sight. That was all th' time she needed an' she vaulted his twitchin' legs to close with th' rest.

She dove forward into th' dirt an' stones at th' next layer o' foes, her arms crossin' before her an' rippin' outward as she went 'twixt two Hollows, takin' out th' tendons in two knees an' bringin' th' men down. Raisin' to a squat she swept th' legs from another an' brought an iron claw down into an' through his forehead, crackin' it like'n egg. His blank eyes wept crimson even as she did a little hop an' rolled again, an axe- head fallin' past her curled back as a Hollow tried t' chop her an' chucking through th' chest o' th' red weeper instead. As she moved her elbow shot into th' flexed knee of th' axeman, knockin' th' kneecap loose an' dropping th' man toward her. He had time for one scream as her arm came up an' then she was spittin' his blood from her mouth as she smiled.

If'n I remember right, that was about five seconds or so. Sado was all a'turned an' watchin' her go, just like m'self.

_gulp_

In a motion that I still see in m' mind, full o' animal grace, she tightened her body an' extended into a flip, her muscular legs bendin' an' eatin' th' impact as she crouched. A Hollow Man stabbed w' a rusted Bowie an' she caught th' long blade in her right claw an' twisted, th' knive spinnin' away. She swung up an' done relieved th' bastard of any possibility of bein' a poppa, not that he would'a lasted long enough to try in th' minute he had left. But, then, she got tackled as a man finally had sense 'nough to use his muscle close – in. She got hit from behind an' I saw her head jerk back, but she hit th' ground an' kept rolling, their two bodies goin' a short distance until she sprang free with a cry and dropped her knee down in th' space beneath his chin, ripping at his head for good measure. The Hollow's feet kicked up high, an' then dropped.

She stood to breath, by this time lookin' like she was nearly all painted up from them gushers, and a tall white Hollow appeared behind her like evil - magic with a long spear in his hand, an eagle- feather spear ripped from th' dead hand of one of Sado's own braves, an' he thrust that spear right at th' small of her back an' her face changed 'cause she knew th' breath of night was upon her an' she started to twist… an' th' spearhead stopped.

Tyat- sooki finished her boneless twist an' fell into a fightin' crouch, but just watched as Sado's buffalo hand slowly closed on th' spearhead an' crushed th' iron into a lump. For th' Chief had seen his wife in trouble an' stepped forward an' caught th' spear in one god – hand, while th' human hand gripped th' throat of th' tall Hollow an' raised his length higher until th' mud – covered enemy was dangling free.

An' then th' buffalo – hand dropped th' lump of iron an' pistoned forward. And all that remained of th' head of th' tall Hollow Man was a cloud of gray and red fog. Th' suddenly slimy neck slipped from Sado's grasp an' th' Chief turned to his wife as th' body hit th' blood – muddy earth.

She walked to him solemnly an' bent her head so that her wild black hair and forehead rested against his wide chest. She looked up into his eyes an' smiled gently, opened her mouth to speak an' th' .44 caliber slug of metal fired from across town by Bandido Ichimaru ripped through her throat from side to side so that her lifeblood spilled from her smile instead of soft words an' her head fell forward again onto th' Chief's chest an' she slid slowly down to th' ground.

Her eyes never closed. Nor did she release her weapons, even in death.

_gulp, gulp_

An' that's my story of Tyat- sooki, th' Apache woman who took pity on me at th' Council at Kid Strawberry's place an' was patient an' fierce an' loving an' deadly. Sado's revenge was a horrible thing, but nothing compared to what Goldy Urahara an' th' Kid did next…

**End**, Part III


	4. Chapter 4

**Kid Strawberry slaps leather on The Hollow Men Gang, Part 4**

Disclaimer:

This story is a "Bleach Alternative" and places familiar characters into unfamiliar environments and situations. I have taken great liberty with the creations of Tite Kubo and expect to pay dearly for my presumptions in the next life. I have also utilized certain Apache / Navajo myths in this story to achieve my ends… I believe I have done them no injury.

Any errors, misspellings or mistakes in the use of the Spanish or Southern Athabaskan words or phrases are entirely my fault. If the story sucks, well, hey... thanks for your time.

* * *

**Editor's Note: **The eyewitness account of "Gabby" Jijo continues. This narrative remains a remarkable relation of the events of 1889, the battle between Kid Strawberry and The Hollow Men Gang.

----------------------------------------------------------------

So… I know y'all want more 'bout th' Kid.

_gulp_

It wouldn't be no justified story if'n I didn't go back from Chief Shado 'n poor Tyat – sooki an' speak to th' rest o' th' fightin' at that time...

Th' Hollow Men Gang stormed Dirtnap like Santa Anna's Mexicans took San Antone… turnin' a reg'lar ciudad ponderado into a cesspool o' pain an' violence. Whilst my first fight was a' happnin' to th' south, th' Kid an' Ruh- kya swept in from th' north like a crack o' thunder. My crew was'a tryin' to be sneaky an' take Hollows unaware… th' Kid had no such intention.

I did not witness, but was later told o' how Chigo strode down th' saguaro- edged rough – cut arroyo as bold as brass, joshin' with his Princess, they both smilin' thin n' secret smiles as they came nigh th' town. Even in that heat, somehow he'd found a white cactus – blossom 'n tucked it behind her ear.

Th' crafty Hollow Men, they done let 'em come close, hopin' to bushwack th' two like they did my crew. But even as they closed their trap, th' Kid didn't need to slap no leather… Goldy Urahara was a'coverin' him like a deadeye from some rocks on th' flank. When them mud – covered sumbitches done bolted from their hidin' spots, knives an' swords an' pitch- forks eager for flesh, Urahara opened up.

Goldy's Henry rifle weren't no real huntin' gun, to kill at a distance, but he was close to spitin' on 'em, less than 'hundred yards. An' he knew what he was about… a Henry's got 15 shots an' he laid out nearly that many bastards, them fallin' on top of one 'nother like bein' shot with a Gatlin' gun.

One thing y'all need t' know 'bout ol' Urahara… in his past life, he was somethin' of a tinker, an inventor, a'fore he became a shopkeep. So, when his rifle… did I mention he named his longarm? Called it 'Red Lady,' ain't that notable… when he emptied his shots he done reached down an' pulled out his LeMat where he had it holstered in a shoulder rig. From his saddle- bag, he took one o' his creations an' jammed it into th' barrel o'th' pistol. Scrapin' a lucifer 'cross th' bottom of his boot, he lit th' short fuse, aimed th' pistol at an angle ABOVE the Hollows an' pulled th' trigger. Th' gadget, he called it a 'pistol – mortar,' was a little bomb. Sure, it could'a blowed up in his face, but it didn't… instead, th' infernal thing blowed up over them Hollows, scatterin' nails an' other sharp shit over'n through 'em.

Th' bushwackers stopped dead. Goldy started reloadin' th' Henry, by this time it was maybe forty of them spread out 'gainst th' Kid and Ruh- kya. An' th' Hollows had th' higher ground.

Y'all have t' stop a spell an' think 'bout this, pard… th' presence that Chigo carried with him. He had a rep'tation across th' Territories, 'tis gospel truth, but… well, let me try to make y'all understand, give y'some partic'lars…

_gulp, gulp_

I betcha ain't no one d'scribed how duded up he was that day, right? Thought not.

He was a'wearin hand – tooled black boots with gleamin' silver tips an' spurs, w' more silver in a wheel pattern on th' outside of each boot. On his legs he wore faded blue Levi Strauss pants under thick black fringed chaps, th' buckles of th' chaps made o' silver an' fancied up some. Tucked int' them Levi's was a black cotton shirt with white pipin' at th' seams an' bright silver buttons at each pocket. Most o' that fine shirt was a'covered by a black leather vest, but th' collar was open an' tied 'round his neck was yeller n' black checked bandana his sisters'd given him.

All his duds was covered by a long black duster… th' coat sometimes seemed t' brush th' ground, but other times it flapped in th' baking air as if t'were… as if t'were th' wings of a raven in flight. It framed him n' turned his body into th' black shadow so many people nowadays think of him as… an' it hid many tricks from th' eyes've enemies.

He wore a low crowned Stetson, th' brim dippin' down on his forehead so his eyes was in shadows most times. A band of silver medallions circled th' base of th' crown an' shone in th' sun like mirrors… an', stickin' up like a banner… a huge raven's feather.

Strapped over his chaps was his low – hangin' irons, holstered in black leather an' belted at his crutch with a solid silver buckle, a raven scratched into th' face. Front an' back loops on th' belt were full o' cart'idges for his guns, th' line of yeller brass glint'in warm in th' sun, like a gold cinch 'cross his middle.

I seen some feller in Dallas – town who was 'a tryin' to sell a black glove he claimed was Chigo's. I know'ed it weren't so an' I tolds that coyote to have more truck w' th' truth. Lyin' is dyin'. Th' Kid didn't wear no gloves, ever. He had one silver thumb ring with a jewel o' pure blackness called jet on his right hand an' a turquoise band on his left hand, 'cause he were spoken for… the Princess, she had a band o' blue lapis on her same finger.

_gulp_

An' that was Kid Strawberry, Chigo Kurasake that day, silver spurs janglin' against th' dusty hard- pack o' the arroyo, facin' off 'gainst forty Hollow Men while Goldy swore t' himself an' tried to stick bullets into his rifle, sweat streamin' down his face. But, like I said, th' Kid didn't need to draw… at least, not yet.

Because, Ruh- kya was there, in that frozen moment. Dressed in leggin's an' sleeves o' doeskin worked with beads an' feathers, wearin' high soft boots with a rabbit- fur fringe, a denim shirt of Chigo's an' a white straw sun hat with an' eagle feather… an' with ivory handled knives carried all over.

Of course, she still had a white an' yeller saguaro flower 'hind her ear.

Ruh- kya looked at Chigo an' he nodded. She put a hand in th' rabbitskin bag at her waist, it came out full of sparklin' dust that she tossed into th' air. Her hands moved an' made shapes within' th' curtain o' rainbow stuff as it drifted down through th' air a'fore her. Tinneh magick, som'at like Chief Sado, y'know.

Ragged cracks appeared in th' rocky ground an' traveled zig – zag towards th' Hollow Men, puffs o' dust in th' air above 'em. A black smoke seeped out them cracks, but t'were… heavier, I guess'd be the word… heavier than smoke just made've air…

Have y'ever been in a swarm o' locusts? Seen th' swarm from far off, a weird lookin' cloud w' thick pieces, kinda' all movin' 'gainst one 'nother in th' way a normal cloud, or smoke, don't? Well that's what Ruh- kya's magic done made, that kind o' cloud…'ceptin it weren't no locusts, sad to say for them Hollows.

Th' thick stuff comin' out th' ground were pieces o' flint. Rightly small, ir'eglar, razor- edged, spinnin' in mid – air at th' biddin' of th' power th' Princess was callin' on. A high buzzin' noise came, too, not like a bee or hornet a'tall. More, like, th' whine of a buzz- saw a'fore th' tree gets pushed through.

Black n' gray, th' streams o' flint all came up an' ran together into one bank o' ripsaw cloud. An' then, Ruh- kya, she pursed her lips an' blew towards th' en'my. Licketysplit, th' cloud whipped toward them Hollows an' swallered 'em whole, ripped them t' shreds in less time than it takes to shake after a… oh, well don't print that, then, pard….

_gulp, gulp_

Ah… in th' space of five breaths that ripsaw cloud took down forty Hollow Men, down past skin n' hair, muscle n' tendon, blood n' gristle… so that th' straight tale of their cleavin' was even marked in th' cut – lines on their bones, like some crazy sailer – fella started a scrimshaw on all of their remains an' never got around to finishin'. No time for them to even scream, th' flint razors raisin' a red spume as they worked that colored th' bones an' soil 'round where each Hollow stood with a multitude of red spots… an' was just as quickly turned black in th' heat of th' day.

An' then, th' killer cloud just sort'o collapsed down onto th' dry soil, like black sand… like nothin'd happened.

_gulp, gulp, gulp_

An' then, t'were done. Ruh- kya smiled a satisfied smile n' looked to Chigo out th' corner of her eye, raisin' an eyebrow to him. He looked at her handiwork an' after a second he grunted, touchin th' brim of his hat with two fingers in a salute. It was at that moment that Urahara popped his head up, Red Lady on his shoulder, finally reloaded.

"Weell," th' Reb drawled as his Spencer came down, lookin' over th' littered ground a'fore him, "Ah wager mah powder charge in that there mortah was more… e'fective… than I es'pected…" He looked startled at Chigo's belly laugh.

The Kid climbed th' short, steep side of th' arroyo, spurs a' jinglin, to get a better look at th' destruction. He whistled an' tipped his hat back with a thumb, then smiled an' turned back to give his Princess a hand… an' that's when more Hollow Men boiled out from where they'd been hidin 'neath a canvas tent, just under th' dirt.

Ruh- kya screamed his name in warnin', but th' Kid, his smile just curled higher. An, then, he was runnin' AT them Hollows, th' split bottom of his black duster partin' behind him like two wings with th' speed o' him, his hat bouncin' behind his shoulders, held t' hisself only by a cord 'round his neck, his hair a torch that rivaled th' sun.

He never drew his irons. They was only 'bout ten of those boys. As he ran, he reached back under his coat an' took out that weapon no one never talks 'bout… his knife. Th' Kid always carried him a' Arkansas Toothpick… y'know what one o' them is, pard? It's 18 inches of steel, razor sharp on both sides, three inches wide at th' hilt n' one inch wide at th' point. It's a big – ass knife, there, son…

**THUNK **

… an it looks JUST like THIS one, that I keep in'ma coat!

Hell, boy, put your eyes back in your head… it ain't like I'm threatenin' t'stick you with'er. Y'all looked confused 'bout that knife. Shouldn't be no confusion now!

Heh.

_gulp, gulp_

Fine. I'll put'er away. Y'all happy now, pard? I think y'need t'buy another bottle…

Th' Kid rolled in on them Hollow Men, his knife down an' his smile out. He moved th' way he always moved… a blur in black, faster'n you can focus on…an' then, bang!

Th' first Hollow had a rusty sword an' took a clumsy swing. A'fore th' sword was half- way down, Chigo moved under an' stuck him clean through, was almost embracin' th' Hollow so close he had gotten to stick in that cutter. Th' tip of th' knife came out that Hollow's back, a gout of blood poppin' out.

Chigo grabbed th' dyin' man's muddy shirt with his left hand an' usin' that leverage, as well as his gut – stuck knife hilt, he picked th' man off his feet and threw him into th' next group of bushwackers. Leapin' high in th' air, he knocked one Hollow down with a kick from his boot, then brought both feet down on two other bastards, knockin' th' air from 'em all, an' then that knife started risin' n' fallin', red jettin' up n' paintin' Chigo's face like warpaint, his eyes glowin' like th' risin' moon in th' shadows of his face.

Ruh- kya, finally makin' it to th' top of th' arroyo – side, saw her man at work an' began to sing a war – song in th' liltin' speech of her people… this is what she sang:

_Ñe- ay- ne_

_Cac-ko-ûnkl-ni, thepoison_

_The bear and snake disease_

_Dark cloud is at the door  
The trail out of it is dark cloud  
The zigzag lightning stands high up on it  
Male deity! Ka-ga!_

_Agate for bones_

_Knife – sharp eyes  
Your offering I make  
I have prepared a smoke for you  
Restore my feet for me  
Restore my legs for me  
Restore my body for me  
Restore my mind for me  
Restore my voice for me_

_Ñe- ay- ne_

Chigo left off from th' poor bastards beneath him as two more Hollow Men came near. More clever than th' others, these two each carried rusty shotguns, an' they flanked him to get clear fields of fire. Chigo wiped th' back of his hand 'cross his face, smearin' what was there 'cross his lips. Then, he smiled again an' those two boys stepped back at th' sight.

The Princess was still singin' as Chigo faced 'em down, an' as her song wound on he seemed to change… his long thin face takin' on a dif'rent look, eyes glowing black with white middles, a suggestion o' feathers at his shoulders an' arms… th' aspect of his power seemed to fill him an' leak out in waves that caused small rocks a'top th' hardpack near his silver – tipped boots to tumble away.

He hunched, for all the world like a bird about to launch itself, an' then he disappeared.

Th' Hollow Men jerked back on their heels, eyes wide in their mud – covered faces, lookin' all 'round for him, shotguns lowered from their shoulders with th' shock. They both turned in surprise at a noise, an' saw it was Ruh- kya. She snorted again, one hand coverin' her mouth, then let loose w' a peal of laughter, rich as a silver bell, ringin. Them Hollow Men turned mighty grim at that sound an' raised them shotguns, stepping closer towards her where she stood.

She smiled wide an' pointed up. Th' Hollows both paused an' then, slowly, they both raised their faces to th' sky.

Chigo, the Strawberry Kid, was droppin' from th' sky on 'em, legs spread an' flexed for impact, one open hand circlin' in th' air as if to keep balance, th' other holding his huge n' blood- stained cutter. He was smilin' like a madman, eyes glowing an' his split – ended long coat rose up behind him as he dropped, blockin' th' sun.

Black feathers danced behind him in th' wind of his passage an' again the Princess laughed her silver laugh. As he landed, Chigo started laughin', too.

Them Hollows, they started t' scream. Never did get a shot off, poor sumbitches.

Anyway, that's what I was told happened on th' North side of town while we fought in th' South an' as warrior men an' a brave woman died. Th' Kid an' his crew continued on to more fightin'. As did we.

I'll tell 'bout that soon enough, pard.

_gulp _

**End**, Part IV


	5. Chapter 5

**Kid Strawberry slaps leather on The Hollow Men Gang, Part 5**

Disclaimer:

This story is a "Bleach Alternative" and places familiar characters into unfamiliar environments and situations. I have taken great liberty with the creations of Tite Kubo and expect to pay dearly for my presumptions in the next life. I have also utilized certain Apache / Navajo myths in this story to achieve my ends… I believe I have done them no injury.

Any errors, misspellings or mistakes in the use of the Spanish or Southern Athabaskan words or phrases are entirely my fault. If the story sucks, well, hey... thanks for your time.

* * *

**Editor's Note: **The eyewitness account of "Gabby" Jijo continues. This narrative remains a remarkable relation of the events of 1889, the battle between Kid Strawberry and The Hollow Men Gang.

------------------------------------------------------

So, I asked th' Kid where his horse was.

This was after th' gatherin' at th' Kid's place, right a'fore we all split up, accordin' to th' plan… don't you worry, pard, don't worry… I'll get there soon, what we was doin' that day, our stragety.

Yeah, this happened a'fore somewhat I been talkin' about, with Tyat – sooki's fight an' Chigo's… I says, so what? I told y'all, this is MY story t'tell… I got y'all over a barrel now that you've, what'd you call it? "Gone to press?"

If'n I was you, I'd'a waited until you'd drained me dry of words an' THEN put out your art'cle, so's you could'a ridden' herd on th' words. But, y'all didn't, an' now you got to let this river run its course… wa- what're y'all…

Hell, pard, that's the first time YOU took a shot. How 'bout another? Gots t'love that McGregor!

_gulp_

Ahhhh. So, th' Kid was gettin' duded up, changin' from th' work duds he'd been warin' during th' Tinneh ceremony into his black an' silver, what I'd described a'fore.

His gunbelt an' Colts were hung over th' back of a rockin' chair where he was a' pacin', on th' porch of his hacienda, an' his Arkansas Toothpick was on th' seat. He was a'scowlin' as he tucked his shirt in, his red hair spikier'n usual, his narrowed eyes castin' all round. "Ruh – kya!" he called out. "Yo, Ruh- kya… y'all seen my vest…?" He paused a second an' turned towards th' open doorway t'hear a reply. Nothin'.

"Aw, hell…" He shrugged, then leaned hisself down to pull up on a stockin' fallen' low in one of his boots.

At that point, Ruh- kya stepped brisk – like onto th' porch from th' doorway, baked agave in one hand an' Chigo's vest in t'other, mouth full an' chewin' for all she was worth. One eyebrow was up, one all the way down an twitchin'… y'all could tell she had a burr under th' saddle.

"Shit." Chigo said softly, lookin' up sideways from his bent – down. Ruh – kya lifted up a leg, planted a bare foot in his ribs an' kicked off with all her might, sendin' him a'stumblin' off th' porch, trippin' through a full windmillin' roll an' landin' him on his ass.

She swallered finally an' lifted her head back, narrowed gaze measurin' him down her nose. He sat sprawled in the dirt, propped up on his arms an' starin' right back. She closed her eyes an' shook her head, her shock of black hair fallin' down 'cross her eyes. "An' you," she sighed, poison sweet, "you are the hope of the world…"

Ruh –kya turned on her heel an' stalked back through th' doorway an' into th' house, still holdin' his vest. After a beat, she walked back out an' to th' edge of th' porch an' threw it over his head. "Found your vest…" she said. She took another bite of th' agave an' leaned forward an' mumbled around th' food, "Hurry your ass up." She grinned, turned and disappeared inside again.

Chigo's eye, visible through th' armhole of his vest, blinked. "I love that girl," he said into th' air. "Damned if'n I don't."

_gulp, gulp_

An' that's when I mosied on closer. After watchin' Chigo's Pa an' his crew saddle up, an' Chief Sado an' th' rest of my crew checkin' shoes n' cinches, I felt that I had to ask. I hadn't seen hide nor hair of that appaloosa th' Kid rode, th' one that carried he an' his Princess back from th' desert that first time. For some reason, that just itched my britches… it didn't seem like much, but I had to find out.

So's I asked him. He turned in my direction an' slowly pulled th' vest from his head, poker faced as he looked up at me. Then, he was a standin' behind me, so fast I didn't catch'im risin' or movin', brushin' dirt off his seat. "Horse, is it?" He said, watchin' me out th' corner of his eyes.

I swallered, not sure if'n I burnt him up by askin'. He reached out a dirty, long, strong trigger finger an' poked it into my forehead, my eyes crossin' as I tried to foller it. He was frownin' when I refocused on his face. "Ruh- kya." He said, flat an' loud. In two shakes, she was out th' house an' walkin' over, hands on a knife at her belt.

"Yo, Chigo…cuál es éste?"

"Ol' Gabby here was a lookin' for my horse…" He raised his eyebrows. "The appaloosa."

_gulp_

"Ohhhh." She came close, eyes high as my chin an' smelling of some fresh, clean scent. She knocked his finger away, made horns with one hand an' placed th' two fingers stickin' out on to my forehead. Her eyes looked into mine, soft an' thoughtful, not fierce at all.

Her lips were movin', th' resultin' pulses of breath from her whispered words blew against my chin. With ever' second, I felt… cleaner. Reinforced. Braced. 'Dunno how t' describe it… I felt better'an I had. After some timeless time she closed her purple – sage eyes an' sighed. "He's fine. Ain't goin' nowhere."

"Ain't goin'…what?" I says, gogglin'. "What the…oomph!" I staggered an' nearly fell to th' ground as th' Kid whacked me a friendly one 'cross th' shoulders. He'd put on his vest n' hat an' started strappin' on Zam an' Getchyou as I looked up. He winked, th' friendliest I think he'd ever been t'me. "Y'all listen to Pollen- Girl, there, hombre… you's right as rain. Don't be like me an' get on'er bad side…"

"'Ákoo bitseeí tsínáiłgoná'a…" Ruh- kya smirked, an' stepped away. ""…And he kept pokin' his tail in the fire…'" She turned an' walked back into th' house, barely touchin' th' ground.

The Kid got his final strap tightened down an' walked up onto th' porch, bent his lean body over to grab his knife from th' chair as he passed, an' then he followed her into th' house. He paused long enough in th' doorway to turn an' look at me, jerkin' his chin towards the Chief an' Tyat- sooki, he gave a little half- frown. "An' keep your head down." An' then he, too, disappeared inside.

_gulp – BELCH_

I seen you start when I said "Pollen- Girl." You been studyin' up on the Tinneh an' they stories, ain't you. Yeah, thought so. I done that, too…

_Cough… ahem…_

"Two girls an' a boy were found in a turquoise shell.

They had no eyes, ears, hair, mouths, noses, or teeth.

They had arms an' legs, but no fingers or toes.

Sun-God sent for Fly to come an' build 'em a sweathouse...

Four stones was heated by th' fire inside th' sweathouse.

Th' three uncouth creatures was placed inside.

Th' others sang songs of healin' on th' outside, until it were time for th' sweat t'be finished.

Out came th' three strangers who stood upon th' magic red cloud-blanket.

Creator then shook his hands toward 'em,

Givin' each one fingers, toes, mouths, eyes, ears, noses an' hair.

Creator named th' boy, Sky-Boy, to be chief of th' Sky-People.

One girl he named Earth-Daughter, to take charge of th' earth an' its crops.

Th' other girl he named Pollen-Girl, an' gave her charge of th' health an' care of all Earth-People."

Y'all believe it.

_gulp_

Who else would be a fittin' companion for the Raven? Who else could repair th' damage He might cause as his talons grip an' wings beat upon th' skin of th' world? Who else might guard his back against all th' ills of Tuwaqachi, but a thin beanpole of a girl with a whole lot of god within her?

The Princess.

Ah, an' now I see your mind a'spinnin' through things. Can y'all guess why Pa Kurasaki an' Goldy Urahara is brothers…? No? You ain't tryin' hard 'nough, pard. I'll let y'all scratch at that tick for a passel more time.

But, since I'm a'talkin' 'bout th' Kid's Pa, let me speak t'whathappened later,to th' west of town… just about th' time Ruh- kya's flint razors were skinnin' Hollows to th' north.

Pa and his crew, includin' medicine man Kinta – see, were spread out in a line afore th' Dirtnap schoolhouse, protectin' all th' little ones in th' town… including th' Kid's two sisters an' Miss Orihime. T'was provident that th' Hollow Men were too interested in th' town center, as they hadn't moved on th' school afore Pa got there.

Pa took up a spot a'top th' schoolhouse, perched up on th' flat clay roof an' a'kneelin' behind a little wall built on top there. He took his long sword off his shoulder an' leaned it up 'gainst that wall. Then, he unslung th' long arm swaddled in a blanket over his other shoulder. Before he could begin to unwrap it, there came a loud high cry.

A brave was a' wavin' from a lookout spot a half- mile away. Them Hollows were a'comin' for th' children, finally.

As th' brave hightailed it back to th' warparty, Pa carefully unwrapped his bundle. T'was somthin' he had hoped never to pick up again, but somethin' he couldn't wait to use: his rifle. Now, this weren't just any rifle, not like th' carbine he was holdin' when Goldy an' me arrived at th' Kid's place; Pa Kurasaki had two outstandin' skills that, t'were you to think 'bout it, you'd reckon' were at opp'site ends of th' string. He were a no- shit fine doc, as I said afore, but he also was a sniper. A shootin' artist.

From that blanket, he unwrapped his snipin' rifle. T'was, in case you're interested, a Whitworth, from England, heavier an' longer than nearly any standard rifled longarm, could throw a .44 caliber slug just shy of a mile an' still rip th' wings from th' fly you was aimin' at. While most of these guns were muzzle – loaders, th' doc's model was one of very few breech- loadin' types an' he eased it from th' blanket like a baby, hands gentle on it's oiled walnut an' blue' iron as he worked th' action.

He folded th' blanket atop th' top of th' little wall, unfolded legs hinged to th' bottom of th' rifle… if mem'ry serves they calls 'em a "bipod…" an' rested them atop th' blanket. There was a dented brass cylinder atop th' rifle, a telescope, an' he unscrewed th' caps on either end. He raised th' Whitworth to his shoulder, an' looked through th' telescope as th' Tenneh scout arrived back at th' defensive line. Kinta – see Four- eye received th' man an' th' doc watched 'em talk. Th' medicine man was a'sportin' a massive bow an' as Pa Kurasaki studied him, th' Apache drew a black an' crooked arrow from th' large quiver on his back. Kinta- see raised th' bow an' drew th' arrow back past his ear an' shoulder. He spoke some word've power an' th' black arrow exploded on th' string, glowin' brighter than th' sun but sheddin' no heat. Th' other Tinneh began to yip an' yell, an' shifted their positions as men do who'er eager for a fight.

Th' medicine man released. Th' arrow rose in an arc, travelin' just slow enough for an eye to track it's shining path into th' indigo vault of th' sky.

Pa took his eye away from th' 'scope an' looked backward, reachin' for his saddlebag. As he did, th' arrow struck th' ground almost a mile away, with th' gut- punchin' vibration of a bass drum.

_gulp, gulp_

I know we talked 'bout a locust swarm earlier, pard… y'all ever lived through a twister? Winds so high that anything not nailed down is swept into th' sky, everything swirlin' an' twistin' an' whammin' against each other an' bouncin' off th' ground or buildin's or rocks… Well, that's what it were like where that arrow landed. There came a flash brighter'n lightnin' an' a twister in that spot that ate up dozens of Hollow Men an' whipped 'em round… it was like an egg-beater goin' to town on a bowl of batter. Ker- splat an' whoosh, mud – daubed bodies flyin' ever which way.

But, th' rest kept comin'. Hundreds. They started a shamblin' run, climbin' over th' dead an' through red puddles an' over rocks an' cactus, holdin' any weapon they could carry. Kinta – see's shoulders were bowed where he stood, th' bow grounded an' bearin' a portion of his weight. Each arrow took a toll. Watchin' th' small army approachin', now th' thin line of braves began a war – chant, some keenin' their death – songs.

The doc went into his saddlebag an' opened it up, revealin' th' shaggy darkness of an old scalp fillin' the bag, folded up tight like a towel an' bulgin' out th' sides. He quickly jerked an' worked th' thing free an' laid it down on th' rooftop next to him. It smelled, faintly, of mortification an' th' herbs used in preserving it. Pa Kurasaki unrolled th' scalp, his face wearin' a far different look than what his patients saw, eyes like narrow red lamps in his bearded face. Nestled deep within th' webs of ancient tissue in th' interior of th' huge scalp were a leather satchel. Th' satchel an' th' thong that closed it weren't tanned from animal hide. Pa loosened th' thong an' opened th' neck of th' satchel… red smoke drifted up from th' inside of th' bag. Th' smoke disappeared in th' heated air of th' day, revealin' th' brass jackets of cartridges. Many, many cartridges.

Gazin' at them bullets, he wore a smile that was just like his son's.

Quick like, fingers nimble as hell, he reached into that bag an' scooped up a handful of cartridges. They sizzled in his grip. Like magic they eased through th' movin' machine of his hand, t' be thumbed into th' longarm, an' th' gun took in more bullets than it's Brit inventor ever dreamed.

Kinta- see had rallied, an' again a black arrow grew to rival th' sun. Them Hollow Men were 'bout a quarter- mile distant, an' his shot were nearly flat as it blazed forward. The medicine man swayed on his feet as a twister erupted amongst th' enemy. Them sumbitches, they just stumbled 'round th' dead an' dyin' an' picked up th' pace even more. Those Tinneh warriors who had reg'lar bows started to work'em an' a thin rain of flint points took down some more of th' Hollows.

Loaded, Pa Kurasaki nestled th' stock against his shoulder an' cheek an' his fingers flexed right before they took their grip on th' wood an' metal of th' rifle.

Then, he opened up…

_gulp_

Heh. I reckon' we're done for today, pard… don't give me that look. I want you primed for what happened next. My story, remember?

Want a shot?


	6. Chapter 6

**Kid Strawberry slaps leather on The Hollow Men Gang, Part 6**

Disclaimer:

This story is a "Bleach Alternative" and places familiar characters into unfamiliar environments and situations. I have taken great liberty with the creations of Tite Kubo and expect to pay dearly for my presumptions in the next life. I apologize for any mistakes I've made with the Spanish language. I have also utilized certain Apache / Navajo myths in this story to achieve my ends… I believe I have done them no injury.

Any errors, misspellings or mistakes in the use of the Spanish or Southern Athabaskan words or phrases are entirely my fault. If the story sucks, well, hey... thanks for your time.

**Note: Thanks for the interest, support and useful criticism from reviewers and e-mailers. I'm very interested in all you've got to say, please keep sending your comments. Sorry about the lag between chapters.**

* * *

Editor's Note: The eyewitness account of "Gabby" Jijo continues. This narrative remains a remarkable relation of the events of 1889, the battle between Kid Strawberry and The Hollow Men Gang.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

So… let's talk 'bout th' way w'all figgered on beatin' th' Hollow Men gang. I reckon' for a place to start, it'd have t'be Chigo an' Ruh- kya an' their "Last Supper…"

What? Y'all don't know THAT story, pard?

Accordin' to scripture th' Lord Jesus Christ an' his twelve compadres done took that last chowdown, La Cena Ultima, on a Sunday, got them some plans together to whup-ass on th' Pompous Pilot an' those pansy – ass, bed- sheet- wearin' Romans… how a empire of girly sumbitches EVER conquered half th' world is a mystery, if'n y'ask me. Y'all brought 'em into th' territories they'd be buzzard- bait inside a week, rolled an' trussed an' sold down Tijuana- way as dancin' hall puh… what?

What th' hell is wrong with your face? This is th' true story.

_gulp_

Rev'rend Stephens done spun a fire an' brimstone yarn 'bout this, maybe five months gone by… my favorite part was durin' "Th' Agony", at that ol' Mount of Olive. Lord Jesus Christ knew them Romans was a'gonna come after Him…as His boys all snored 'round Him 'cause they drank too much of that wine He gave out. But still, Him tellin' His Pa that He'd ride His trail all th' way to th' end, if'n it came to that, that were a fine FINE thing. My hair was a'fire when th' Rev talked 'bout Our Lord "girdin' His loins" for them crucifian' lizards. I'm ain't sure what it meant, girdin' an' such, but it sure sounded like an important thing for Him to do… like strappin' on a hogleg a'fore a fight.

Look, pard, I ain't a'gonna go on if'n we don't have our own little talk… I thought last time we was straight on what I'm doin'. You, you says you want more on the Kid, then you says you want to hear 'bout our stragety on th' day, now you tellin' me you want me to go back to Pa Kurasaki? I mean, what's it a'gonna be? I'm a'tryin to… y'all want your own bottle, go ahead, sehnor. Just let me be an' stick to writin'.

_gulp, gulp – BELCH_

So, Chigo an' Ruh- kya had them a version of a Last Supper. 'Ceptin' it were breakfast time, an' more'n twelve muchachos were there, an' there weren't no booze, an' really, when y'all think on it, if'n them Romans had a'tried to lay a hand on th' Kid, you'd've had yourself a tree shortage from th'need of pine boxes. Or olive boxes, or what- not.

Anywho, we was all a'standin together behind th' Kid's house…

This was after th' Tinneh ceremony. Th' tub of water had been dumped into a Ari- zona flower- bed nearby, with vivid red blooms of barrel cactus a'mixed with th' tangled spiny arms of buckthorn cholla, dottted with yellow, pink an' red blossoms. Nearby, Ruh- kya was standin' a'fore a big, cured buffalo hide that she'd a'staked into th' ground ev'ry few feet, so's that it were drawn taut. Th' pelt side was to th' ground, an' th' cured skin faced up. She had Chigo's black duster atop th' hide, but she'd been bent over it with a charcoal stick forever, workin' hard writin' some kind of somethin's all over.

Chief Sado bid his warrior men to go gather horse an' provision, while he an' Tyat- sooki stepped towards Ruh – kya, deep in th' fixins of an arguement. Chigo was squattin' down by th' side of th' hide, absently movin' one big hand over th' dusty, pebble- covered ground as his thoughts wandered. Pa Kurasaki, Goldy and Kinta- see th' medicine man were all a'talkin' 'mongst themselves, expressions solemn. Not sure what I was a'doin' there, I just stood still an' to th' side, tryin' to keep my stomach from grumblin'… after all, with Goldy an' I runnin' as we did, I hadn't seen no breakfast, an' even Pete Whittaker's ghost wouldn't begrudge me some vittles… ol' Pete never missed many meals hisself.

While ev'body else was talkin', while it seemed there was no eyes turned upon them, I saw Ruh-kya reach out a hand an' place it on Chigo's head, runnin' it through his spiky hair. I turned my eyes to th' cactus garden an' admired th' flowers, as it seemed to be a plumb private type of moment, an expression of th' gentler feelin's that few now believe a hard man like th' Kid could've felt. But, with m'own eyes, I done saw th' Kid press his head into th' caress an' respond as any man might to his love.

_gulp, gulp_

I'm proud to tell th' story of his fight 'gainst th' Hollow Men, but I would not be set to rights with m'self if'n I don't balance th' tale an' speak of Chigo Kurasaki, just a youngster defendin' his wife, his sisters, his Pa... an' th' world as we ken it.

I was th' only body that saw Chigo stand an' draw. There came a gunshot, an' ever'body turned in startlement. Th' Kid nodded, one've his Colts smokin' in a big hand, the pistol held head- high an' angled away. "It's that time, y'all." He said.

He brought th' muzzle of a pistol to his mouth an' breathed in th' smoke… then he pursed his lips an' blew. Th' smoke billowed out, like from a wet – wood fire, more smoke'n he'd taken in. Th' smoke grew into a big gray cloud a'fore his face, an' then gradual- like began to take th' form of a man. Parts've th' smoke disappeared to reveal features n' limbs, as if th' figure were bein' carved from rock instead've cloud. Sunlight seemed to set th' truly thin sections of th' cloud to glow, lightin' it from behind an' above.

Eventual- like, a man- tall ghost stood a'fore Chigo. Th' bearded phantom was a'wrapped in a cloak've vapor, a Spanish conquistador helmet I'd heard call a "morion" settin' tall on his skull, th' front'n back brims comin' to wicked points, his long blackish hair fallin' in ringlets down past th' tall collar of his old- style shirt an' to th' ghostly armor on his shoulders. His white eyes glowed in th' shadows 'neath th' helmet an' ghostly feathers in that tin hat blowed in a wind no body could feel. He gave an odd little bow to th' Princess an' then turned to th' Kid. 'Neath th' sharp length of his nose an' his curled- up mustache, thin ghost- lips grinned. "By the cursed steel of my rapier and my powdered bones! The time has come to let me speak loud and long, Chigo Kurasaki, so that I might earn my blessed rest…"

His lips didn't never move. It seemed his eyes flickered to me an' his smile got bigger. I felt cold steps climbin' my spine. No one else seemed t'notice anythin' partic'lar... besides th' fact that a dead man done joined our council.

_gulp, gulp, gulp_

"Baaya'iti…" I heard the Princess say, an' turned back to face her. Chigo was now standin' behind her, eyes cold. "It's time to speak of how we will defeat these Hollow Men…" Th' gatherin' closed in about them an' Ruh- kya closed her eyes, swayin' as she turned her face to th' sky. Her eyes opened.

"Hazen. He was present at the beginnings of this world when Yusen carved and placed the four giant posts that support the earth. He was of the Mirage people, of the tribe made by the same four – fold song the Creator sang as his fingers weaved the sky, and he was one of the eight who lent their spirit in the creation of the first man and woman from white and yellow eagle feathers."

"This Pahana, our lost white brother, has allowed his spirit to be corrupted and eaten. He is not now what he once was. He is empty: his arms are empty, his legs are empty, his fingers and toes are empty. His guts seethe with emptiness. He has no heart." She paused as a pair of wrens raced past her, speakin' loudly to each other in their high, harsh voices. They flashed through th' fog- body of th' conquistador ghost an' settled together under th' prickly embrace of th' cholla an' fell silent. Ruh- kya smiled, an expression that left her face quickly, while th' ghost looked plumb put- out by their gumption.

"What is not empty is his head. He is filled with poison and corruption that will, if he has his way, end this world, the Fourth World and all who dwell upon it. We know his goal, to usurp the place of the Creator, Yusen, and reign over the World- to- Come. We know that the vaporous tremors of his will wind like snakes through other men, feeding their vices even while eating their souls and bringing that power into him. This is how he created his followers: they are Hollow Men in truth…"

A ghostly hand was raised an' curled into a fist, shakin' with emphasis. "The spirits of all those who Hazen has destroyed cry for justice. They gather where I dwell, clutched together and wailing, never at peace as their bodies are used in sinful violence." Th' specter raised his bearded chin, his glowin' eyes moon- bright, searchin' all our faces. "They beg for clean and honorable death!" Ghostly teeth clenched on th' final word, grittin' 'neath his beard, jaw thrust out in emotion.

_gulp_

At th' time, I didn't believe th' words. As I done said previous, I only turned believer after I asked th' question myself an' saw th' empty hunger a'clutchin' at m'leg. I could only bring that bastard peace by paintin' th' street of Dirtnap with his brains… weren't no clean death as I could ken it.

Th' spirit of Chigo's Colts, Zam and Getchyou, wrapped hisself up in his ghostly cloak an' bowed his head t'show his piece was said. Ruh- kya stepped forward, towards th' middle of what had now become a ring 'round th' hide staked on th' ground.

"He controls illusions, Hazen," she said, "and blinds the eye. Every word he speaks sweeps grave – dust past his lips and into the living world. And…" Ruh- kya's eyes were th' dark purple of a storm. "We know he may only be slain by the Raven." At this point, she done bent an' removed the Kid's coat from th' staked hide. "This is our plan de accion. We all must walk the war path to help defeat this evil…!"

Th' group leaned forward to view the buffalo- hide. Her hair a mite tumbled from th' effort of whippin' away th' coat, Ruh- kya's eyes moved expectantly across th' faces 'round her as they looked down, waitin' for affirmation.

_gulp_

There was a plumb uncomfortable silence… ever'one lookin' at t'other out th' corner of they eye, while some had to force they mouth shut. If y'all can picture hardened Apache braves an' soldiers from th' War 'tween th' States an' some Tinneh gods in human form an' a ghost from th' Spanish conquest of th' Aztec nation squirmin' an' tryin' like hell not to attract Ruh- kya's attention, well, you've got th' scene figgered out.

Th' Princess gradually stiffened, her arms straight at her sides, hands balled into fists an' angled up at th' wrists. Her head started to jerk around th' circle. "Que pasa? What is the problem!" Her eyes narrowed as her gaze turned over her shoulder, an' th' tough- as – nails Kid took a half- step back. "ChiiggooOO…!" Her voice rose.

Th' Kid winced an' ran a dirty hand across his hair. "Ruh- kya, it ain't that there's a problem with th' plan…" his hand pointed down at various points on th' black lines on th' buffalo hide, "an' I think w'all get th' picture, with th' rabid polecat bein' Hazen, an' th' snake an' spider bein' his boys…but…"

"It is the smiling little rabbits…los conejos" Th' puzzled airless voice of th' ghost said, as he rubbed his bearded phantom chin. Th' rest of th' group voiced their agreement in several different tongues.

"Gah." The Princess muttered in Apache, eyebrows drawn an' eyes hidden in shadow. "Gazapillo. They're bunnies." Chigo took another slow step back, his boot makin' a long scrape- mark in th' dirt.

"Why are we all drawn as gah?" Tyat- sooki reached an arm out to the Princess. "Heh. I think that one is me… see the claws and my eagle- feather on that … so that must be…" She looked at Sado an' smiled. "That is a large rabbit!" The chief grunted, lip twitching.

"Bunnies!" Ruh- kya burst out, eyes wide. "They embody vigilance and nurturing… and they are quick and bring good fortune!" Her fingers pointed down to her sketches. "Here, see…Chigo- bunny and I and Born of Water follow this arroyo…"

Goldy elbowed Pa Kurasaki. "That IS ah mighty fetchin' lahkeness." He drawled. "She got mah sword just right…"

Th' Princess paid him no mind, an' rolled on to point to pictures drawn of us all, those gathered 'round. As th' number four was sacred to th' Tinneh people, an' th' use of th' number invited Yusen's blessin' on any plan, our group were t'split into four. Chief Sado was to lead one war-party into town , Pa Kurasaki t'other, an' the Kid was to lead th' third. The fourth war- party… well, at th' time, it was a mystery. Ruh- kya had a wagon sketched on th' buffalo pelt, decorated with a bunny wearin' a mask to indicate th' unknown nature of whatever was in th' wagon. If I'd only known then WHAT was IN that wagon… well, ain't worth goin' into, I'll get there soon 'nough, pard.

_gulp, gulp - BELCH_

"The fourth of our four sacred war- parties will travel with Monster Slayer." The Princess said, indicatin' Pa Kurasaki. His mouth thinned beneath his beard an' his dark eyes shifted to his son. Chigo moved his head… they was talkin' without words 'bout how Pa was goin' to th' school, where the Kid's sisters were settin'. They was well protected already, as the Kid an' Ruh- kya had forseen th' schoolhouse bein' a focus of attack… how could it not be, with th' pure, strong young souls it housed. We didn't know just how muy forimidable Miss. Orahime would prove to be in th' later attack. The Hollows would find out, though, pard. Amen to that.

An', now, pard, my secret from earlier's done… Y'all been readin' up on Tinneh legends an' songs, so y'all know who those boys are. Th' brother gods Born of Water an' Monster Slayer, twin sons of Changing Woman an' th' Sun god, Jóhonaa'éí, grandsons of th' Creator. One dark, one golden… charged with ridin' roughshod over giants an' serpents an' other midnight nasties that threatened th' gods an' stability of th' Fourth World. It ain't my tale to tell, but th' two brother spirits done kenned one 'nother out as Goldy and th' Doc ripped at each other hand t' hand amidst th' crimson- covered thickets near th' sunken road of The Hornet's Nest, th' most hellish part of th' Shiloh, in April of '62.

But, comin' back to th' Kid's place… other things happened at th' meetin', things that would only show teeth an' tears later that day… like the Chief and his wife arguin' 'bout her goin' with him, with poor Tyat- sooki happy as a frisky colt when he folded.

"I will guard your back, husband, and be your shield." She said, big brown eyes wide an' shinin' with a teasin' light. She grinned an' nodded to him, as quick an' graceful in her movements as he was still as a stone, his arms folded in an' attempt at muscled nonchalance. "And," she said, I remember clearly her smilin' like a lynx at dinner – time, "and when the battle is done, I will name my prize from you…" She turned her back, an' began to walk away. "Chances are it will be a baby…" She sang as she moved further from him.

"Perhaps…" he replied softly in his deep voice. She stopped, an' then quickly went into th' hacienda. Of course… they…

Sorry, pard. Can't talk no more 'bout that.

_gulp_

I also saw th' wagon for th' first time, an' th' huge thing hidden under blankets an' tarpaulin that would be such th' difference in our little war on th' Hollow Men Gang. Two Apache warriors were fixin' th' blankets an' I saw th' big claws. I plumb couldn't believe it. We'll, maybe I'm a'getting ahead of m'self.

There were so much that I remember from that hour: I saw Ruh- kya somehow strongarm Chigo into promisin' her flowers before th' day was through, an' I saw th' foggy form of th' ghost thin an' shrink an' stream into th' bared barrels of both of th' Kid's Peacemakers right a'fore my eyes. I saw Goldy an' th' Doc embrace an' for a moment thought huge figures outfitted in scaled armor of black and turquoise flint stood before me, faces too terrible to gaze upon.

One thing, also, that I remember… this happened as th' triangle sounded for food, an' those who had a stomach for it went for enchiladas an' maize an' baked agave. An, maybe this was Chigo's Jesus moment, 'cause for just a second he was by his lonesome with th' Princess goin' for some grub…

Chigo turned his head to th' sky an' closed his eyes. I know for a fact he didn't ask for no cup to pass, though. Y'see, pard, after a minute a dim mantle of black covered his back, shimmerin' in th' heat, an' a rain of ghostly black feathers began to drift down from th' brilliant sky. Slowly, slowly, they fell an' each feather swept to a bullet an' in a snap disappeared. Th' Kid was a'getting' ready to grab that cup an' drink deep.

Girdin' his loins, pard. Girdin' his loins.


	7. Chapter 7

**Kid Strawberry slaps leather on The Hollow Men Gang, Part 7**

Disclaimer:

This story is a "Bleach Alternative" and places familiar characters into unfamiliar environments and situations. I have taken great liberty with the creations of Tite Kubo and expect to pay dearly for my presumptions in the next life. I have utilized certain Apache / Navajo myths in this story to achieve my ends… I believe I have done them no injury. Any errors, misspellings or mistakes in the use of the Spanish or Southern Athabaskan words or phrases are entirely my fault.

I hope I'm not deluding myself that the store is relatively entertaining..? I'm laughing my ass off writing it.

**Note: Thanks again for the interest, support and useful criticism from reviewers and e-mailers. I'm very interested in all you've got to say, please keep sending your comments. **

* * *

Editor's Note: The eyewitness account of "Gabby" Jijo continues. This narrative remains a remarkable relation of the events of 1889, the battle between Kid Strawberry and The Hollow Men Gang. 

---------------------------------------------------------------

Well, pard, get us a couple bottles for this one… if this ain't a McGregor story, I can't tell you what is!

_gulp, gulp_

Th' hardpan were griddle- hot under th' washed blue sky, th' arroyo a twistin' landmark behind them. A thievin' wind blew lonely 'cross that ground, a wind that carried no relief but sucked out whatever water a body had an' carried it away.

Th' Kid an' Ruh- kya, they was a makin' their way towards Dirtnap at a slow an' steady pace, th' town maybe two mile ahead. Goldy had taken hisself forward to mark trail, outridin' through some rocky hillocks to th' Nor'east, so's they was alone on that barren stretch of waste. That smolderin' wind kicked dust up 'cross they path, an' when th' dirty curtain settled, th' ten figures of Hazen's Rankers was a'standin in their path.

They was a mongrel crew: fat an' thin, big an' small, ugly an' uglier… but each were picked for toughness. For th' most part they job was to ramrod th' reg'lar mob of Hazen's bastard army an' point them at th' killin' that a'needed to be done… that's why they each carried a title like Ranker. Filled up by Hazen's magic with spirit stolen from th' shit- covered, mud – washed masses, they was on th' rung right below Ichimura an' Tousen in th' power peckin' order. Th' ten spread in a curved line, blockin' th' way forward. They weren't wearin' no mud, but was all dressed in some type of white get- up. An' they each had th' outline of a skull painted over they faces.

They called themselves "the Spades."

_gulp_

Chigo an' th' Princess paused in they steps. He pursed his lips an' let out a soft laugh. "Hell, ain't they pretty..." He took off his hat, red spikes of his hair matted with sweat, an' slapped th' dust out 'agin his thigh.

"How?" she said, matter – of – fact, one hand on th' bead- worked belt 'round her waist.

His lips straightened in a grin. "Two to th' west…?" he replied in th' same tone. "Ain't got time for no spell…"

"Yes. When?" Easing her knives in their sheathes, Ruh- kya's mouth set itself in a small distracted frown.

"Ahhh…" His big hand clamped th' hat back onto his head an he pulled th' brim down, placin' his eyes in shadow. "If'n y'all're ready, I'd say…"

"Yo!" One Spade said, steppin' forward from th' line, his hands shiftin' to two pearl- handled pistols slung low on his hips. He was a'wearin' a white jacket with black lapels, sleeves rolled up to th' elbow, but with no shirt beneath. A third pistol was stuck down his pants into his crutch, right over his scarred belly. Above his glarin' eyes an' skull- painted face were a wide brimmed straw hat that covered his side- slicked white hair. Th' black hat band held a silvery badge, a death's head flashin' from th' metal. "I'm soo friggin' tired of hearin' 'bout this shit- suckin' Kid Strawberry fella." The grim- jawed Ranker spit a long, thick splat of tobacco juice an' grinned through brown lips. "I'm thinkin' to write an' end to his shitty little story right here…!"

"… Now, darlin'." Chigo said. An' then th' pair was a'movin', criss- crossin' a'fore them Spades at a dead run, black feathers trailin' from th' length of th' Kid's duster through th' bakin' air after 'em. The Rankers done grabbed after they shootin' irons but they might as well've been made from slow meltin' wax. As dust puffed from their fleet feet, th' Kid, he grabbed th' edge of th' black coat a'spreadin' behind him an' pulled it wide an' tight. As his shoulders flexed an' his head rose Ruh- kya leapt, nimble as a deer, planted a toe on Chigo's coat tail an' vaulted high into th' air above him. In a whistle she were like- as three body lengths up above, glidin' free as an arrow might.

_gulp, gulp_

Her hat in th' air behind her an hair streamin' 'cross her face, one knee lifted high up by her chest an' t'other leg trailin' behind, Ruh- kya threw both arms into arcs. Cleavin' th' air from her hands, four of her knives flashed down. "Dah-he- tih-hi…" She sang, "Hummingbird!" As her eyes narrowed, th' flower blossom fell from her hair, twirlin' past her face as it dropped.

To them Rankers at th' end of their line to th' left, it seemed like th' Princess had thrown four birds at 'em. Whippin' through th' air, bodies an' wings colorful blurs so that they was nearly impossible to follow with th' eye, th' shapes confounded 'em as they tried to defend. They fired wildly into th' air, barrels jerkin' in time with their curses, yeller teeth stark agin' they pale faces. They didn't have much time, though, 'cause a'course they wasn't no birds, they was killer steel.

Th' fat bastard on th' far left, one cutter sank down into th' dirt next to his shoes. His bushy eyebrows went up in surprise as t'other knive crunched through his bowler hat an' sank into his brain… his eyes rolled up as he coughed a breath an' he twisted some as he fell, ropes've blood surgin' down t'either side've his nose. His finger closed onto th' trigger of his Colt an' fired a final shot… right into th' side of th' Spade next to him. That bullet hit just as th' other two knives flashed in, so that they didn't hit that Ranker's head an' neck as th' Princess meant but sliced into his chest an' groin instead.

Long black hair flyin' round his head, this young lookin' Spade threw back his head an' screamed as his knees buckled, an' a fountain of red sprayed out from th' damage done at his groin. Th' knife hilts shook with every new yelp he busted out, his shotgun forgotten an' fallin' from his clenched hands. Then, th' edge've th' steel stuck in his chest sawed through somethin' an' a gout of blood done coughed up out of his mouth an' his head fell back as he went to hell.

Th' flower from Ruh- kya's hair spiraled gentle- like to th' earth, at th' same time that her feet hit th' dirt. She'd flipped in mid- air, so that when she landed she was a'crouchin' face towards them Ranker bastards. It were a good thing, too, as th' screamin' man next in line over from her los hombres muertes opened up with his pistols in a long, wild string've shots. She had to throw her body backwards an' to th' side to avoid bein' plugged an' her hand hit th' ground to keep upright.

_gulp_

Now, I'm a'gonna get real close. I want y'all to look me in th' eye… this is so y'all know I ain't bullshittin'.

When th' fury was upon him, when th' reason was right in his mind… Kid Strawberry was like no other killer you never seen. Nowadays, folks talk 'bout your Jesse James, your John Wesley Hardin… hell, go back to Nathan Bedford Forrest for a cold, hard bastard who did what he had to. Couldn't hold a candle to th' Kid.

Belch 

At th' same time th' Princess was takin' to th' air, th' Kid slapped leather on Hazen's bastards for th' first time.

His eyes glowed out 'neath th' brim of his hat, starin' up from his lowered head, his grin widenin' into a tooth- filled smile as he let go of th' sides've his duster an' cleared his holsters in a move that were faster than an eye- blink. Th' coat opened up an spread behind him an' it seemed like his runnin' body were trailin' a length of shadow like a torn black bedsheet, stark even in th' pitiless light of th' Ari- zona day.

Zam an' Getchyou began to speak in cold loud barks an' Spades began to die, not just to fall but to be blown back an' buffeted by th' death dealin' wings of Ka- ga, th' Raven.

Th' tauntin' Ranker drew his pearl- handled hoglegs, only to have a slug to th' gut fold him up an' plant him on his ass ten feet back 'afore he could jerk a trigger. Th' fancy pistolas fell from his numb fingers an' those same tinglin' hands fled to his back, to try an' stick slippery shreds of liver back into th' hole next to his spine. That jaw've his began a'clenchin' in agony.

He were a lucky one. He was still whimperin' after th' first few seconds.

Th' skull- faced bastard to his left had a bullet hit right atop his nose an' th' top portion of his head, still wearin' th' big straw dome of a chinese hat, flew off to splash to th' ground far behind. Like a chopped tree th' thin stiff fell forward, pieces of brain spillin' out from th' opened bowl've his skull in a soup of gray an' red, odd needle – like metal nails at th' ends of his fingers twitchin' like a piano- player.

All down th' line, even as as Ruh- kya's hummingbirds took flight, Rankers were a'screamin an' a'dyin.

_gulp_

Kid Strawberry didn't stop short an' keep firin' like y'all hear 'bout in tales an' books. He let his speed work for him, dust puffin' from th' bottoms of his churnin' legs an' bullets crackin' past as he brought th' fight right to 'em… even as he were cuttin' loose, he lowered his shoulder an' stove in another Ranker, shriekin' a high cry of rage.

That bastard fell an' Chico put a spur into his strainin' neck, then pivoted with his Peacemakers held out, a little fountain pissin' scarlet brief- like from under his boot. Zam's hammer fell on an empty chamber an' th' Kid tossed th' Peacemaker up into th' air, drew his Toothpick an' whipped it into th' chest of another shotgun totin' Ranker to his right in one lightnin' motion. He snatched th' fallin' pistol blindly from th' air while firin' Getchyou at a broad shouldered Spade in a black ten- gallon, th' bullet strikin' instead a blood- leakin' sumbitch who stumbled into th' way.

Still searchin' th' carnage 'round himself, Chigo broke open Zam one- handed an' jerked the gun down hard, scatterin' empty brass at his feet. He stuck th' pistol barrel- down into th' pocket of his coat, exposin' th' empty chambers… his fingers, spiderlike, slipped fresh cartridges from his belt an' slotted'em into place. Getchyou spoke thunder agin', meanwhile, an' that black ten- gallon kicked up into th' air, sky showin' through th' red- rimmed hole in th' hat- band.

Th' Kid pulled Zam out've his pocket. He flicked his wrist an' the Colt closed with a soulless metal clack an' he done raised his arm 'til both pistols were straight- out at angles a'fore him. Chigo's eyes didn't dip as he weaved over an' 'round th' leakin bodies an' body pieces stretched about on th' red mud've what had been hard- baked soil just seconds a'fore.

A giant of a Ranker, pistol lookin' tiny in his oversized paw, rose from a hidin' squat an' picked up a corpse've one of his fellows. Holdin' th' body as a shield, he moved towards Chigo an' cut loose. Th' darkness seemed to grow 'round th' Kid an' his eyes flared like summer- lightnin'. Th' edge of his long black coat curled 'cross his body, 'tween him an' them fired bullets, th' duster a sudden barrier've interlockin' feathers that th' rounds plumb disappeared into. With a flash've shadow th' feathers blew out an' dusted down to nothin'ness in th' hot air, leavin' th' edge've th' dusty cloth to flap back as a normal coat might. Three small sounds called attention to th' bullets, whole an' sittin' in th' dirt at th' Kid's feet.

Thrustin' forward, Chigo lowered his head an' kicked out with one boot- sole. Both Spade an' corpse hurtled backwards, an' th' Kid followed 'em. He took his time, breakin' Getchyou an' blowin' out th' chambers as he strode. He stood over th' fallen giant, th' Ranker strugglin' to breath with a crushed chest- bone, rosy foam at th' corners of his mouth an' th' wide- eyed an' dead face of his Spade brother starin' up at him in reproach, draped over his shudderin' body sideways. Coldly meetin' th' hate- filled eyes of th' dyin' man, Kid Strawberry loaded up his Peacemaker, chambers clickin' slowly as they turned, then closed th' Colt. His strange eyes, milky where they usual – like was dark, eased th' barrel down an sighted, thumbed th' hammer an' stroked th' trigger. Th' sideways corpse was thrown off by th' final mule- kick of th' giant Ranker's body. Th' Kid's head cocked to th' side, gun hands low an' held out from his body.

_gulp, gulp_

"Ruh- kya…?" Th' voice barely sounded like th' Kid, high an' tense an' vibratin' with a raw, saw edge of th' beserker. His head angled up, white eyes to th' side.

"Chigo, over here."

At her voice, his head lowered an' th' strange tension in his shoulders eased. He blinked an' turned an' his eyes was they normal brown. It took him two tries to holster them pistols. "Y'all got your two?" he asked lightly, th' question' maskin' his real concern.

"Three, ifn' y'all count this 'un." Her voice was amused.

Chigo strode over, his steps irregular as he walked over an' 'round th' remains of th' fight. He dipped his knees in mid – stride to tug his Arkansas Toothpick free from a dead heart. Th' Princess were sittin' atop th' chest of a younger Ranker, one've her knives balanced point- down on his voice- box, with her index finger pushin' slightly in th' hilt to keep it up- right.

"Chigo, meet Leroy. Leroy, meet Kid Strawberry." Th' back of th' man's blonde, bruised head dug a divot in th' soil as he tried to twist it to keep an' eye on th' Kid. Ruh- kya's knife dealt a shallow cut to his throat an' he quickly moved his head back.

"Deroy…" the Spade hissed. "Not Leroy… Deroy." His eyes flashed in anger. Chigo an' Ruh- kya shared a look an' raised eyebrows.

"Deroy, then…" She smiled grimly, an' knocked on his forehead with th' knuckles of her other hand. She shrugged at Chigo. "He had the drop on me, but don't have a head for countin'. Two pistols don't help none with no bullets." She grinned an' he smiled back.

A weak curse sounded off to th' side. Th' Kid frowned an' moved towards th' sound, Zam appearin' in his hand. T'was th' original boastful mouth- piece for th' group, his hands clutched over th' big wound in his belly, nearly all bled out an' lyin' in a big spot of crimson mud, his chaw of tobaccer slippin' out th' corner of his mouth. Chigo holstered Zam an' squatted down, pushin' his hat back on his head with a stained finger. "Boy, you are one fine mess!" He shook his head an' pulled th' hat brim back down.

"Bastard!" Th' Ranker scowled, then winced mightily in pain. "OooOOOooh…Die, damn you..!" He spit blood an' it splattered 'gainst th' Kid's cheek.

Chigo wiped at th' spit with th' back of his hand. Under th' shadow of his black hat, his eyes began to glow. "You, first." He replied mildly, voice fey, as he drew his big, big knife…

_gulp, gulp_

Don't worry none, pard… there's more to tell here, an' then I gots to get to Chief Sado an' his fight agin' th' Bandido!

Keep them bottles comin'!


	8. Chapter 8

Kid Strawberry slaps leather on The Hollow Men Gang, Part 8

Disclaimer: This story is a "Bleach Alternative" and places familiar characters into unfamiliar environments and situations. I have taken great liberty with the creations of Tite Kubo and expect to pay dearly for my presumptions in the next life. I have utilized certain Apache / Navajo myths in this story to achieve my ends… I believe I have done them no injury.

Any errors, misspellings or mistakes in the use of the Spanish or Southern Athabaskan words or phrases are entirely my fault. Likewise, I have let too much time pass since last raising a six-gun…you have my apologies, good friends.

As always, if the story sucks, hey... thanks for your time.

**Editor's Note:** The eyewitness account of "Gabby" Jijo continues. This narrative remains a remarkable relation o the events of 1889, the battle between Kid Strawberry and The Hollow Men Gang.

------------------------------------------------------

Weren't nothin' I could do at th' time, y'see… an' I never 'spected to see Cap'n Hazen an' live, never y'mind bein' close enough t'touch 'im. Well, hell… I'll drink to it.

_gulp, gulp_

But, first th' Bandido...

Despite th' shadow thrown by th' brim o' his sombrero, his eyes was all squinched up. A crooked grin snaked 'cross Bandido Ichimaru's thin red face an' his arm a'forced th' saber bayonet, 22 inches o' British steel, just _that_ much deeper into Chief Sado's gut.

"I'd tell you to… lick your blood o'f my boots…" He grunted in th' Chief's ear. "You won't… live long enough… to TRY." His voiced trailed up in a choked an' crazy laugh.

A gasp blew from th' Chief's mouth, flecks o' red coatin' his lips. His buffalo arm, hung as t'were over Bandido's right shoulder in th' end o' a punch that missed, began t'shimmer an' lose hair as th' magic o' I-gûn-da left him. Th' rust- colored medicine bag were all dark n' shriveled, like a dead man left too long in th' desert day.

_gulp_

T'was an odd shadow that roved th' dusty street o' Dirtnap, tied to th' shiftin' feet o' th' two fighters, no distinction made betwixt their movin' limbs but just a big stunted outline splittin' an' swingin' this way an' that as they pushed 'agin one 'nother in th' close- in fight. An' a' course there was th' blood spittin' an' drippin' with their sweat into little pools an' streams in th' kicked- up dirt. Th' dark hazy spots've other shadows circled an' circled th' fighters like balls on a roulette wheel… that was them five or six buzzards that, red beaked, was eyin' the next course o' their ugly, corpse- feast from up on high, blockin' th' furnace-sun with their stinkin' wings.

Sado jerked his head back, knockin' Bandido's fancy cover o'f his head, it dangled by a gold strap from th' straining muscles o' th' Hollow Man's neck. Th' strap fell atop th' flexed thumb o' the Chief's shakin' left hand, wrapped as it was 'round his enemy's adam's apple an' squeezin' with what remained o' his giant strength. Th' men continued to hop through a lumberin' death dance while all 'round them on th' street Sado's few braves fought desperate-like t'hold back a flood o' maddened Hollows, rabid t'help out they boss. Th' air was thick with screamin' cries an' th' heavy thuds o' landed blows.

Th' Chief growled an' thrust his head for'ard in a head butt. Ichimaru quickly shifted much as he could with Sado holdin' his neck, takin' th' impact on th' side o' his face, grin disappearin' at th' shock an' pain. Th' Chief's hand spidered in position, fingers hookin' even tighter an' coverin' th' rawhide lace o' th' Bandio's necklace, blue o' bruises showin' in th' raw skin Bandido's throat under his grip, th' strips o' muscle in his forearms bulgin', big as another man's calves might look.

I were on my ass, 'bout twenty feet away, scramblin' back like a beaten dog from two o' th' Hollow Gang. I'd been a'tryin to line up a shot on Bandido with m' lent Sharps pistol as he an' th' Chief went at it, but they was so close in their fight that I kept havin' to move an' circle 'em myself. Drifted too dang close to some Hollow sumbitches an' got whacked upside th' head. M' sweet four-barrel went flyin' one way an' my sorry ass stumbled down t'other, backside on th' dirt next to a hitchin' post an' back agin' th' side o' a water trough.

Like I said, nothin' I could do but try an' save m'self. I grabbed a broken pitchfork from th' dead hand o' Isiah Plum, poor sinner a'hacked up an' lyin' half on th' wood o' th' sidewalk an' half on th' scarlet-stained street, an' used it t'hold them Hollow's off… I were as desperate as a hog come near th' butcherin' hour, an' hopefully as hard t' catch.

But, let me break some trail a bit, there, pard. Th' way I've been jumpin' 'round, y'all prob'ly need a look-back…

_gulp, gulp, gulp_

Just a couple minutes a'fore –

Tyat-sooki, known as Nîn-ko-jîn, was lyin', graceful an' fierce even in death, at th' Chief's feet. A blood- streaked brave with a clear look at her death called out an' thrust a finger towards th' town. Th' Bandido was a'standin' there with his long coat flappin' in th' hot air, smoke still risin' from th' muzzle o' his Navy Colt an' darts've light flashin' from his neck as th' jagged mirror pendant he wore caught th' sun. It had been a tremendous shot, but then b'that point Ichimaru were more'n a man. Chief Sado's face set as stone, he done reached up an' removed th' headdress o' a hundred eagle feathers, each one earned from an act o' bravery, knelt an' set it next to the body o' his wife. He dipped a gnarled, thick finger from his horn-handed buffalo arm in th' blood on her neck an' drew lines 'cross his cheeks an' down his nose. He gently lifted her arm an' unwound th' rawhide cord from her wrist, freein' up one o' her claws, an' tucked th' thing in th' beaded knit belt 'round his waist. Then, he stood. He told two o' his remainin' braves to protect her body an' t'place all th' damn Hollow corpses they could find at her feet.

He started t' bust-ass towards Bandido. He took off like a shot, an' his remainin' warriors ran after him with whoops an' cries. After a minute, I followed, scared t'death but gun at th' ready.

Ichimaru just stood there, linin' up a shot. He fired an' th' Chief swung his hairy arm an' knocked th' slug aside. The Bandido fired agin' with th' same result. An', then th' Chief was on him. That buffalo arm swung for'ard an' whumped th' Hollow Man in th' chest an' he flew inta an' through th' ol' wood o' th' Dirtnap Hosteliery, a big cloud o' dust risin' from th' jagged hole left by his body. But, th' Bandido walked out from that hole a second later, wipin' at his face, his reg'lar weird smile lit up for all t' see.

An', he done laughed.

Sado, his eyes went wide, an' then creased tight in rage, th' blood o' his wife stark red an' drippin' down his cheeks with his sweat, his arms shakin' with th' power o' his emotion. He took a huge vaultin' step, just as a wave o' Hollow Men busted out o' th' buildin's on both sides o' th' parched street an' ran at him, wavin' rusted shovels an' broken knives an' such in their mud-daubed crazy fury. Sado's braves formed a thin' line at his back, an' I were stuck betwixt them an' him when th' blades started their choppin' strikes an' th' spears lashed out like rattlers.

Let me say one thing, there, pard… I 'spect you ain't never heard th' deathsong o' a Tinneh brave. I had not neither 'til that day, but it haunts m' dreams still, after all these years. It's like them Union boys who talk 'bout th' Rebel Yell they heard at th' Hornet's Nest at Shiloh or Horseshoe Ridge at Chic'mauga… ever' now an' again, they hear a train whistle an' it shivers they soul. That's how it is with me. No man could've fought with more dignity an' fortitude an' ferocious love for they people than these Tinneh men, an' th' low growls an' high cries've they final tuneful self-eulogies were an ongoin' music I had t' get used to, like some constant chorus y'all hears from inside a church when you ride past, Sunday mornin'.

Where was we? Yeah, that's right. Bandido.

_gulp_

So, them Hollows gave us the bum's rush an' Sado was a' chargin' at Ichimaru, a smilin' his sick smile. An' Bandido whipped up his Navy Colt an' fanned th' hammer, sendin' slugs sizzlin' through the heated air. All o' em' hit, stitchin' into th' Chief. Two a'bounced off his Buffalo arm, but one poked through his shoulder in a sudden' cloud o' dust an' misted blood an' ragged strips've flesh… t'other creased past his gut right under his rib cage. Sado staggered fer a second, but only a second, an' he barreled right into Ichimaru an' back-handed th' hogleg right from his hand an' gave him a full belly-punch that seemed as like t'break th' Bandido's spine. An, th' Chief a'hauled Aizen's man back by his shirt, gripped hard in his massive, hairy hand, a'fore that big whack could'a sent him a'flyin away agin'. But, eyes glintin' from th' shadow under his sombrero, Bandido was still smilin'…'cause as Sado yanked him back like a roped bronc, a bright steel bayonet jumped out from up his sleeve, must'a been some kind've spring-rig, an' he looped it up, right up-an-in through th' hard muscle over th' Chief's belly.

I saw th' damned thing an' swore I'd blow Bandido's head off. I started movin' then, to line up a shot, an' as I said, I wound up on my ass holdin' a pitchfork.

Sado whoo'ed out, in a sudden spray o' dirty spit an' blood, but he held on an' kept punchin' at Ichimaru's head. Bandido cackled, white knuckles tight on th' hilt o' his big blade, an' he started twistin' that sticker. Th' Chief fell back an' nearly dropped t' a knee, th' move jerkin' th' blade out o' him with a suckin' sound. With a roar in his own language, he whacked th' ground with his god-hand an' rocks an' dusty soil leapt into th' air with th' sudden vicious shakin'… t'was difficult for anyone to keep they balance an' th' battle stopped for a nonce' as Hollow an' brave staggered in place like drunks, an' th' tinkle an' chime've broken glass came delicate- like behind th' crashes, screams an' yelps. A huge cloud o' dust covered everythin' like mornin' fog, an 'Sado raised his head, eyes peerin' through th' thick moist strands o' his gray-dusted hair t' spot his enemy.

A salvo've bullets whipped holes through th' cloud, but hurtin' as he were, Sado was able t' roll clear. He grabbed Tyat- sooki's claw from his belt, it an' his lower body were drippin' scarlet from his belly wound ,

an' he charged forward blind. There were a shadow just ahead that he could see through th' driftin' motes an' he ripped for'ard with th' claw an' there was a shriek, th' shape went down thrashin', split into pieces.

It were a Tinneh brave, one o' his own. Bandido's laugh came from somewhere behind him.

_gulp_

All I could see was long bright poles from th' sun a'pokin' here an' there through th' layer o' dimness on th' street. An' then, there was a sound like I heard a bobcat make once, when t'was about t' spit out some bone it had et, 'ceptin this were much deeper, sorta growlin'... I saw whorls appear in the dust, circ'lar holes each in a line one after t'other, like port-holes in a ship, an' they went from pretty damn big an' then shrank, to medium to smaller, an' in th' middle o' th' smallest one… clear as if there weren't nothin' in th' air, there was th' Chief's face. Grim as an' undertaker, red lines blurred from sweat an' tears, he opened his mouth an' that sound came out agin' an' I watched as th' dirty air got sucked right into his mouth. In a slap-dash, his body was visible, face turnin' apple-red so that the blood on it jus' blended with th' rest, an' the medicine bag began to shimmer, an' he done opened his mouth agin' an' out come this massive growlin' sound, an' I'll be double damned if'n a mini'ture twister didn't show itse'f twirlin' like a lasso an' dancin' at th' end o' his tongue! I could see th' Sado kind'a slumpin' as if th' thing was eatin' away his powers, an' th' medicine pouch seemed t'be shrinkin' right quick as well.

Th' Chief clopped his teeth shut an' th' tornader hopped t' th' street, a'growin all th' while until it were man-sized. Th' dust cloud got torn t'ragged sashes o' dirt an' filth, which done got sucked into th' vortex.

Yeah, I knows what 'vortex' means, damnit. It's th' word that's used in them monthly catalogs at th' Five an' Dime market, talkin' 'bout them flush commodes an' how all th' crap y'all leave gets sucked down them pipes an' such. That spinnin' water, that there's called a vortex. An' th' Chief's twister-magic, that was one, too… suckin' in all th' crap.

_gulp, gulp_

Sado staggered a mite as th' windy thing … y'all happy now, with that word? Th' windy thing started a'stalkin' down th' street. But, all th' folks on th' street was suddenly right clear to th' eye, an' all th' fightin' re-started agin' as if th' starter's pistol got fired at a horse race.

Th' Chief spotted Ichimaru a'leanin' agin' a porch-pole, clickin' shells into his Colt as if he had all th' time in th' world. Sado started t' charge an' th' bastard shot him in th' leg. Th' Tinneh chief screamed in mortal anger an' skip hopped with what speed he had until he was on top o' th' Hollow, too close fer that long-barreled pistol to bear in. He clamped on with both hands an' used a wrasslin' move, rollin' his hips t' toss th' killer clean into th' air… as if by aim or jus' by good fortune, when Bandido hit th' ground he landed flush on top o' Tyat-sooki's bloody claw, that Sado had dropped in th' middle o' th' street. Now it was Ichimaru's turn t'scream like a scalded tomcat an' spit up blood.

_gulp, gulp_

Sado gimped 'cross th' twenty or so feet to th' writhin' Ichimaru an' dropped a knee on his crutch, an' th' Hollow Man doubled hisself up. But, then Bandido whacked out with th' barrel o' his pistol an' it caught Sado 'cross his nose an' th' big Apache fell back awkwardly as his bad leg gave way. Ichimaru rolled an' rolled across th' dirt o' th' street an slowly stood, an' now he began t' grin agin, even with th' mess he had become.

Sado painfully rose, teeth gritted an' black in th' streaky gray an' red mask that was now his face. An', he done charged agin', always th' bull with him, always th' Bull, if'n y' catch m' meanin'. He done thrown a punch with his tired god-arm. An', that blow missed an' Bandido had his silver cutter in his hand an' damned if'n he didn't stick th' cursed thing nearly in th' same hole he made earlier, rippin' it deep into th' Chief's guts…

An, that's a'where we done kicked off this loco episodio. Weee-oow, it took some doin' t'get back here, more'n I reckoned.

An' then, Hazen…

_gulp_

I was doin' a parsel've work wavin' that broken pitchfork 'round, tryin' t' keep them Hollows off a me, when all a'sudden-like, they got this look've horrible fear on they faces, an' they done tripped over their own bloody bare feet a'stumblin' back away from me. I began t' wonder why in m' head, an' then I heard a sound behind me, th' hairs on my head stood up an' my thought turned t' "oh, shinola!" I damn well didn't want t' turn around, th' pitchfork droppin' from my numb hands, but I couldn't stop m'self. My eyes went left, an' then like, they kept draggin' m' head 'round so that I kept seein' more n' more.

There was the dead hands o' poor Isaiah Plum, lyin' face down on th' wooden walkway in a dark an' sticky pool under a cloud o' flies. An', his lifeless arms. An', his greasy head, thankfully facin' away from me so's that I couldn't see his eyes or face. An', sittin' atop his dead back, dressed very neat n' dapper in' a suit with his bowler hat at a rakish angle, legs splayed out a'fore him an' shiny shoes crossed at th' ankles… was Cap'n Hazen.

At that point, I do believe I crapped m'self. A'gin.

_gulp, gulp, gulp_

I'll wait a mite as you finish all th' scribblin', pard. Sure as shootin' y'all're gonna ask me t' describe th' man. "Cap'n" Suki Hazen, tall, medium broad, certainamente nothin' in his reg'lar look t' give him such a fearsome rep'tation. Face were anglar, hair long but slicked on th' sides, an' a long curl in th' front that fell all th' way betwixt his eyes… I'd guess th' sen'oritas would give a second look t'that face as they was sashayin' by. He wore spectacles, square shaped specs that fell maybe half-way down his thin nose. Sometimes y'all could see his eyes, but sometimes y'all couldn't, an' t'was like flames were a'dancin' in them lenses instead o' glass.

Two scariest things 'bout Hazen were his eyes an' his smile. His eyes, they was brown, but th' cold, cold brown y'find when you're a'diggin a grave high in th' mountains an' th' dirt is frozen solid. Hard, unforgiving, stealin' heat from you with evr'y breath. His smile… aw, hell, I don't like thinkin' on it even now. His thin-lipped smile never showed teeth, just curled 'round… an' it weren't cruel or hungry, t'was _happy_. All th' blood an' misery an' hurtin' his Hollow Gang put on a body, it was just damn funny, but he wanted funnier.

Hazen was a'havin' a good time on that day in Dirtnap. He was lookin' fer a reason t'laugh.

Hazen noticed me. I scrabbled 'cross the dirt, m'fingers digging into th' street, but all he did was wink at me. Yeah, he did, I ain't lyin'. Then, in a blink he was a'standin, I swear my eyes was right on him an' I didn't see him move. He had on black dress shoes wi' some kind of leather buttoned up thing over th' ankle… what you call 'em, pard? A spit? A spat! Madre de Dios, that's it, pard. Hazen was a'wearin' spats w' shiny black buttons that went up under his trouser legs.

_gulp_

He had a sword. It was under his arm, like a man might carry a cane, all casual. It was a mirror… I don't mean, "shiny like a mirror," like a knife blade. I mean, t'WAS a mirror, like someone cut a sword shape out've th' big ass mirror behind th' bar in a saloon an' stuck a hilt on it. I could see th' street reflected in th' blade, an' th' buildin's an' th' hazy sky. An' then, as like I saw m'self… but I weren't me. I knew th' image a'captured in th' sword was me, but it weren't how I looked, instead, t'was a horse, an' a man, an' a giant fearful bird. That mayhap been even more a'scary then th' Hollow Gang Leader.

Hazen primly stepped down from th' sidewalk, his gray tweed self, bowler hat a'shadowin' his eyes, spectacles flarin' out reflected sunlight. I thought he was a'goin' to do for Chief Sado, an' I despaired 'cause there weren't a thing I could do 'bout it. He did take a couple more steps towards th' deathstruggle in th' middle of th' street. Two buzzards fell out th' sky, smelly an' dead as they thudded into th' earth, Lord is my witness… he stepped through their circlin' shadows.

He cleared his throat. "Ichimaru, what _are_ you doing?"

The Bandido's eyes went even wider in his purple face. He tried t'answer, but th' Chief had stopped up his talker as he squeezed an' squeezed.

"How rude." Hazen smiled, an' his big mirror sword came up in his hand an' light flared. I had t' cover m'eyes at th' flash.

I looked back, an' Sado was lyin' senseless on th' ground, th' black dots of dead flies layin all around an' on him. Bandido was upright, barely, held up by Hazen's other arm.

_gulp, gulp_

Hazen looked at th' Chief, still smilin', an' raised his sword a'fore his face in what I guess was a salute. He turned his face to th' side an' I could hear him murmur to th' Bandido: "Not yet. Everyone has a role to play in the game, Ichimaru, and both you and that Tinneh boy over there still have moves to make."

Tears were coming down th' Bandido's cheeks. "Ple..ease…" he croaked, fingers've his workin' hand on Hazen's lapel.

Hazen raised a thin eyebrow. "You wouldn't want me to be cross with you, would you, my friend." Th' Banidido's knees buckled. Hazen waved his sword agin' an' a sun rose in' th' Dirtnap street.

I looked out from under m'shieldin' arm, but a full minute went by a'fore I could truly see. Somethin' strange t'hear, though. All th' sounds've fightin'… they'd plum stopped. I blinked an' blinked, what little water m'body could make fillin' m'eyes until I could see pebbles in th' sandy dirt o' th' street. I raised m'head, an' m' jaw dropped down.

Ev'ry Hollow Man I could see, was dead. There was two Tinneh braves staggerin' 'round, lookin' as ridiculous as I guess I was. Somehow, some reason, Hazen had up an' killed all his boys. I wasn't 'bout to go lookin' for th' sumbitch t'ask him why. I got t' my feet, better off'n th' two Apache boys, an' slowly went t' Chief Sado's side.

He was alive. Hurt bad, worse than I'd'a ever taken an' lived, but breathin'.

So, th' three've us, we found a horse blanket an' put th' big man on it, an' we dragged his ass towards where we left th' body of his wife, hopin' she hadn't been desecrated or eaten or somethin' worse. As we passed it by, I scooped up Tyat-sooki's claw, now decorated with th' blood o' her killer, an' put it on Sado's chest. Them braves, they done liked that, an' I guess I gained some stature in their eyes.

But, I'd lose that respect later on, in p'raps th' worse way possible. But, I guess that's another story, pard, right?

_gulp, gulp_

**End**, Part VIII


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